The Runaway
by Lady Suneidesis
Summary: After an accident that alters her powers, SpiderMan's daughter joins up with a group of thieves who possess some unusual abilities. Can she survive life on the opposite side of her dad? Epilogue!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-man, X-men, or any related characters except Nikki Parker. (I've still never figured out what the point is of these disclaimer things. Obviously we don't own the characters or these stories would be published and in comic books.) Please let me know what you think! Read and Review!

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**Prologue**

At a chillingly calm pace, the group of inky black shadows floated forward, attempting to surround their frightened victim in utter darkness.

A young girl backed up slowly. Her eyes, filled with sheer terror, darted this way and that in their sockets, desperately looking for an escape between her cold enemies. Her fingers finally met the wall behind her and she pressed herself up against it, wishing that the ground would just swallow her up right there.

Trying to talk her way out of it had been useless and judging by the ruthlessness in their eyes, this whole thing would end without even a fight.

Just as one of them almost had her, the girl threw her arms up in front of her face and screamed.

* * *

"Nikki!"

Peter sat straight up in bed, a cold sweat running down his face. He had been watching the whole scene play out helplessly until her scream ripped through his sub-consciousness and jolted him back into reality.

Panting hard, Peter leaned back against the headboard of his bed and tried to calm down.

"Peter? Honey, are you ok?"

He glanced over at his wife who was gazing up at him with concern. Peter took another deep breath to relax and shook his head. "I don't know. I guess I just can't seem to get over the fact that she's—" His voice nearly cracked and he broke off.

"She's gone?" Mary Jane finished for him softly. Peter just nodded.

It occurred to him that it was exactly two years to the day that his daughter, Nicole Parker, had disappeared. Their two other children, Ben and May, had never really recovered.

Now Ben was ten and May was fifteen, the same age Nikki had been when she vanished. Peter, who had been extremely overprotective for a while afterward, finally began to admit that even Spider-Man couldn't be watching them twenty-four seven.

So Peter was very slowly learning to let go. After all, May was now patrolling the streets with him as Spider-Girl and there was only so much you could do to keep her safe.

Nicole Parker had always seemed reserved and almost aloof toward him, but she still had a bit of a rebellious air about her. She and Peter had gotten into a bitter argument with him on the evening she had vanished.

Peter had immediately gone to look for her. Strangely though, he never found her and returned home cold, wet, and utterly miserable.

He could still remember MJ's hopeful face when he swung in through the door many hours later. Her eyes read his through the mask and the tears streaming down her cheeks were almost more than he could bear.

In desperation he had even contacted Professor Xavier in hopes that his daughter had been seen by one of the students there. No such luck.

Now, Peter glanced at the clock by his bed. It was 5:15.

With a grunt of disappointment, he smacked the alarm button to turn it off and rolled out of bed. MJ watched him silently before falling asleep again.

Peter Parker yawned as he walked into the hallway and to the kitchen. He checked May's room and Ben's room one by one on his way, lingering for a moment to watch his peacefully sleeping children.

A smile crept up his face as he remembered how May had nabbed three bank robbers just last night. She and Ben were both still sleeping soundly, undisturbed by his earsplitting scream. He finally turned and continued his trek to the kitchen.

He crept noiselessly down the steps. A quick shiver shot up his spine as his bare feet touched the icy linoleum floor and he remembered the biting winds he'd endured during his nightly vigil.

Peter started some coffee and slumped down exhaustedly into a chair, staring vacantly out the window. His mind slowly went over the nightmare that had woken him.

He knew that there wasn't any chance of it being real; Nikki had been "presumed dead" a long time ago. But he still wished there was even the slightest, smallest, tiniest possibility she was alive.

Suddenly a loud ring startled him out of his wistful thoughts. Picking the phone off the hook, Peter felt his pulse quicken as he recognized the voice on the other end.

"Mr. Parker, I believe we may have located your daughter."


	2. A Big Mistake

Thank you to my very first reviewer: Brent Holcombe! Yes, I suppose you're right. I do kinda like leaving people hanging. Now we're jumping back a few years, so I guess you could think of the first chapter as more of a prologue.

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**A Big Mistake**

Two years earlier:

"Wake up, Nikki. Isn't it a wonderful morning? Hurry and get up, it's time for school," a melodious voice droned cheerfully. Nikki blinked sleep from her eyes and rolled over, expecting to see Ben standing beside her bed with the usual grin on his face.

Instead, all she saw was her alarm clock. Yawning, Nikki turned it around and narrowed her eyes. Ben had somehow recorded his voice on their answering machine and hooked it up to her alarm clock. Sometimes that kid was too clever with electronics for his own good.

Gritting her teeth as the message continued to replay, Nikki smacked the alarm button. Then she dragged herself out of bed and carried the contraption into her brother's room.

Ben was sleeping soundly. Smiling mischievously, Nikki reset the alarm from 6:55 to 7:55 and put it on Ben's nightstand. Then she walked into the kitchen.

Her cereal tasted extra delicious this morning as Nikki thought about her little payback joke. Ben's elementary school started and hour later than hers, so by the time he was awake and furious, Nikki would be long gone.

Being an older sister did have some advantages.

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Nikki got to school early. Sneaking up the stairs to the chemistry room, she cracked the door open and peered in.

She was in luck. Dr. Camdon, the chemistry teacher, was nowhere to be seen. With a quick glance behind her, Nikki slid inside.

She hurried over to the counter that lined the wall on the opposite side of the room and began rummaging through a pile of plastic trash bags. They held dead rats that her biology class had been dissecting this week. Nikki finally found hers and looked about for a spot to work.

The room was cluttered with rats, but Nikki finally found a spot in the corner. Apparently Dr. Camdon had already been there that morning. A group of test tubes holding multicolored chemicals were set up.

Nikki carefully moved all this to the side and set down her rat. Then she went to hunt through the closet for some gloves and tools. She didn't notice one of the tubes tip over slightly and begin slowly spilling its bright blue contents onto the counter.

As soon as she returned, Nikki opened the bag and dumped the rat into a tray. "Yuck," she muttered as she got a whiff of formaldehyde. The stench made her cringe slightly, especially when she remembered why she was sneaking in to do this in the first place.

On Monday, their whole class had been assigned lab partners. Nikki had gotten paired with her latest crush, Josh. It had all been just fine until Wednesday when the biology teacher was sick and they had been moved into the chemistry room.

Josh had left early that day for a baseball game. His voice still rang musically in Nikki's ears. "You'll be able to finish this on your own, right? This is kind of a big part of our grade."

Nikki sighed dreamily as she thought of him gazing romantically into her eyes. "Okay, well maybe it wasn't exactly romantic, but so what?" she muttered to herself. Her mind far away, she set the tools next to the tray, including the sharp scalpel – directly into the blue puddle.

Nikki began working hurriedly. She could almost feel the chemistry teacher breathing down her neck and every tiny noise from outside the room made her jump. Nikki knew how much trouble she'd be in if she didn't get this done by time school started. However, she also knew how much _more_ trouble she'd get herself into if she got caught in here, alone and unsupervised.

The dissection was supposed to have been completed yesterday, but she had spent the entire class period talking with her friends. So now she found herself in here, hurrying so she didn't have to face Josh and look like a total idiot.

The pressure to finish now rested on her shoulders like a lead weight and Nikki never once noticed the growing pool of blue liquid. She reached distractedly for the scalpel blade and let out a yelp of pain as it sliced through her right hand. Nikki yanked her injured hand back and stared at it in growing horror.

The blade had cut a clean half circle on the top of her right hand, directly over her thumb. Blood began pouring into the glove as though some one had just turned on a faucet inside her hand. But the worst part was that the blue chemical that had once coated the scalpel was now smeared into and all over her wound.

Nikki darted to the back of the room and flipped the tap on. Plunging her hand under the water, she frantically ripped her gloves off and began futilely scrubbing at the deep cut. Nikki bit her lip to keep from crying in pain as she felt the chemical begin burning inside her hand and quickly beginning to make its way up her arm.

Even as she reached for the soap in an attempt to wash the mysterious liquid out, Nikki realized that the gash had already begun sealing up. The edges of the cut were now stained a pale blue as they fused together. The frightened girl now attempted to pull the wound open again so she could wash it properly, but it was too late.

In less than forty-five seconds, the scalpel cut appeared to have healed entirely with nothing but a blue half-circle scar to prove that anything had happened. Puzzled and scared, Nikki stared about for a moment at a loss. She suddenly became aware that the noise outside was growing louder and feared discovery, knowing that the teacher could walk in at any minute.

Her body seemed to switch on auto pilot and quickly cleaned up the mess. Nikki felt as though she was watching herself from a camera on the ceiling. Everything was hazy. At last, Nikki fled the room.

Only upon further inspection later that day did she realize that her fresh scar was glowing blue.


	3. Everything Changes

Sorry, I know it's a little short. Oh well. Thanks to Brent Holcombe and Cleo Lorenz for reviewing!

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**Everything Changes**

Nikki trudged miserably through the crowded hallways to chemistry class. She'd had a horrible headache ever since the incident with the scalpel. Usually, she would have gone to the nurse on a day like this. But Nikki was too scared that what she'd done would be discovered, so she decided to bear it. What she didn't know, was that the accident had happened on one of the most inopportune days of her life.

The biology teacher was back today, but the class stayed in the chemistry room to avoid the trouble of moving all their equipment.

When Josh thanked her for finishing without him, Nikki just mumbled something inaudible and squeezed her eyes shut, wincing at the growing headache.

The teacher gave them an A and commented lightly on Nikki's ability to work and have three conversations going at once. He called her "quite the multitasker." Josh laughed good naturedly, but Nikki was beginning to feel like the room was slowly turning.

"I have to sit down…" she started, but her voice trailed off. Nikki realized she was falling toward the floor. Everything seemed to be in slow-motion. In alarm, Josh lunged forward and tried to catch her.

As he watched in amazement, his lab partner began glowing blue. Josh threw his arms under her, but he never made contact.

Nikki never forgot Josh's surprised face as she fell through him. She didn't realize that she had suddenly begun beaming like a radioactive gel pen, but she could see that he had.

A few kids turned to look and watched in amazement as their blue classmate collapsed through Josh's outstretched hands and headed for the floor. The moment she connected with him, her glow seemed to shoot up his arms so that he too was radiating blue light.

But the girl never even hit the floor. Instead, she disappeared into it, leaving a glowing blue silhouette on it.

It was like falling into water; the horrible sensation of feeling it close over her head. Instantly, everything became pitch black and she found herself gasping and fighting for air.

* * *

The English teacher seemed to rattle on and on. Terri stared at the ceiling in boredom. To her amazement, a bright blue girl suddenly dropped out of it directly on top of the teacher. Terri leaped to her feet excitedly and watched the girl fall straight through the teacher, ending her little adventure with a painful thud against the ground floor.

The whole class was on their feet and cheering when Nikki came to her senses. A glowing face, half covered by glasses, was staring curiously at her. With a shriek, she struggled to her feet and looked about wildly.

What had happened dawned on Nikki almost instantly when she saw the blue shape above her. _I fell through the floor!_

All of the sudden, the wall of the classroom seemed incredibly inviting. Nikki bolted through the desk and into the wall. The next thing she knew, it was dark again, but she plunged ahead. Nikki felt herself break free of the concrete and hunched up to catch her breath.

She didn't stay for long. People were thundering down the steps from the floor above her and Nikki knew it wouldn't be long before she'd be facing the English class again. She darted on.

Nikki ran until she got home. Pushing the door open, she hurried in and slammed it shut behind her. For a long time, Nikki remained there, leaning against the door and breathing hard. Sobs would shake her occasionally, but then they would gradually die away. What had happened to her? Was everything going to be alright?

After a while, Nikki dragged herself up the steps to her bedroom and threw herself down on her bed. She cried there for a while longer before getting miserably to her feet and walked into the bathroom.

She flicked on the light and stared into the mirror. A pale, tear stained face gazed back at her pityingly. It spoke gently. "What am I going to do?"

Frustrated, Nikki picked up the hand towel and threw it at the mirror. Her reflection offered no answers. She was tired of looking at herself and decided to take her contacts out. As she carefully screwed the lid of the contact container back on, Nikki felt a wave of nausea wash over her.

Gasping, Nikki staggered for a moment and blinked. Her headache began to return with just as much force as ever. Rubbing her face and sighing, Nikki began the endless journey to her room.

By time she walked through the doorway, she was swaying like a drunken girl. Nikki paused a moment to yank her ponytail out of her hair and throw the rubber band on top of the dresser.

Everything was really spinning now. The world about her was upside down and inside out. With a final lurch, Nikki sprawled onto her bed. Her last sight before passing out was a spider web on her windowsill.


	4. Ghost

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. I had a bit of writer's block for a while, but I think the wait was worth it. Thank you again to Brent Holcombe and Cleo Lorenz for reviewing! And to everyone else who reads it, please review!

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The next day, Nikki was surprised not to be awakened by some annoying trick of Ben's. Her door had been closed and May was already up as usual, made apparent by the neat bed next to hers. Nikki rubbed her eyes and sat up. If her sister was awake, that meant Nikki was definitely going to be late.

She climbed out of bed and realized that she still had yesterday's clothes on. "Yuck." Nikki glanced at the clock. "Whoa, I have to be ready in five minutes if I want a ride to school. Guess I'll have to forget about a shower." She ran her hand through her ruffled long brown hair regretfully. "Oh well."

Nikki had just enough time to change and grab her backpack before running down the steps to the kitchen with out even looking in the mirror. She gave her mom a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "Bye, Mom. See you after school!" Mary Jane smiled and blew a kiss toward her daughter. "Love you, hon. Have a good day."

Nikki noticed her dad getting up from the table and gritted her teeth to keep from making some nasty remark. The words that popped into her head would have gotten her grounded for a month. She bit them back, but couldn't help feeling contempt for the man who was never home in the evenings and rarely in the mornings. In other words, between work and always being out, she rarely saw her father. "Oh yeah, see you later, Dad." Then she started for the door.

"Hey, slow down Nikki."

Nikki spun around. That was when she remembered that her contacts were still in the bathroom. "Just a sec, Dad," she called as she started back up the stairs. Suddenly, Peter was standing in front of her. He grabbed her hands to stop her. Nikki had never seen her dad move that fast in her life.

"Honey, are you sure you want to go to school today? You seemed really sick yesterday." His eyes gazed into hers searchingly, as if he expected her to tell him something. "Is everything alright?"

Nikki laughed forcedly as she tried to edge around him and pull her hands from his vice-like grip. "I'm fine Dad, really. I just forgot my…" her voice trailed off. It was at that moment that she realized her vision was perfectly clear. Nikki blinked twice. Then she looked back at her dad.

He had turned her hands so the palms were facing up and seemed to be studying her wrists. Puzzled and a little uncomfortable, Nikki jerked her hands away and hurried out the door. "I'm ok, Daddy. Forget about it."

She didn't see the concerned face that watched her leave. Peter rubbed his wrists distractedly until the door slammed behind his daughter. Then he walked over to the table and sank into a chair next to MJ, looking relieved but still worried. May had already left and Ben was still asleep so they finally had a moment to talk. "You don't think it's possible that she could have my – my powers, do you?"

Mary Jane sipped her coffee and shrugged thoughtfully. "I don't know, Pete, but I doubt it." She got up and began clearing the table. "Why don't you go wake Ben and forget about it. Besides, you didn't see anything on her wrists, did you?"

Peter shook his head and began heading up the steps, trying to let his wife's reasoning convince him that everything was fine. The only problem was that it wasn't working.

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"Hey, did you hear about the ghost yesterday? Everybody says the school is haunted."

Nikki froze and backed away from the excited group of sophomores she had been approaching. She had desperately hoped the whole thing had been a horrible nightmare. As they continued their eager gossip, Nikki began to wonder how she could go into the building without being spotted and labeled as 'Ghost Girl'.

Three other girls were headed her way, though they didn't appear to have seen her yet. Normally, Nikki would have been happy to be with them. But today was different. Today her friends would ask question after question about what had happened and she did not want to answer them, nor did she have any answers in the first place.

Her shoulders sagging hopelessly and her eyes fixed steadily on the ground; Nikki wandered over to a group of foreign exchange students from Spain in order to avoid drawing any attention to herself. One year of Spanish hadn't taught her enough to make much sense of anything they were talking about, but the word 'fantasma' kept popping up in their conversation.

Nikki finally left the kids in frustration and decided she could skip school today with only a thin shard of hope that everything would be forgotten over the weekend. She left the school grounds and escaped to a nearby park.

Slumping dejectedly onto a bench, Nikki gazed about. It was a sunny spring day. The sky was blue, the birds were chirping in the trees, and the buses were rattling by noisily. Nikki groaned and dropped her head into her hands in despair. Was there nowhere she could go to get away?

As if to make the poor girl even more miserable, a newspaper thrown towards the nearby trash can missed and almost hit her in the head. Nikki seemed to see the paper heading towards her in slow motion. Instinctively, she leaned back and let it fly past her face.

Still a little stunned, Nikki shook her head to clear it and wondered about the quick reflexes. She forgot about it as soon as she saw the headline from where the paper had landed: _Ghost Girl in Local High School!_ Fury overtook her and Nikki began shredding the newspaper to bits. She regretted it when the pieces stuck to her fingers like glue.

A man walking his dog stopped to stare at a girl shouting angrily and making a scene as she tore ruthlessly at a paper almost as if it was attached to her hands. He finally picked up the little dog worriedly and hurried on.

After a few minutes of taking out the past twenty-four hours of stress on the newspaper, Nikki managed to remove it from her fingers and slowly plodded home. Everything seemed to be completely falling apart.

She didn't notice the man approaching her until he practically stepped on her foot. Looking up swiftly, Nikki carefully tried to back away. She knew better than to trust some strange man on the street. He surprised her by being exceptionally respectful and kind.

"Sorry to scare you, miss," he apologized politely.

"Don't worry about it," Nikki mumbled warily. She was still trying to edge away and attempt to get the attention of some passerby. It didn't seem to be succeeding.

The man stuck out his hand boldly. Nikki took it hesitantly and found it in a strong grip as the stranger shook it. He seemed to be somewhere in his thirties and his mop of black hair was speckled with gray. The man was obviously not a street person and even appeared to be very wealthy. He was wearing slacks and a brown oxford shirt that he hadn't buttoned all the way up to the neck. "My name is Veron Odrade. I was pretty impressed when I heard about your little incident at school. Caused quite an uproar, I believe."

Nikki ducked her head embarrassedly. "Uh, yeah, I guess it did. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to…" He raised one eyebrow and clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Get back to school? I wouldn't if I were you. You'll never make it out alive after all the questioning and attack of the media. I'd go straight home if I were you. By the way, here's my card if you ever need any help. I run a small supermarket in the city. Feel free to drop by anytime. Well, I have to go now. Take care!"

Nikki watched him disappear into the crowds on the street silently, thinking that his invitation had more implied to it than just to "feel free to drop by". She fingered the card for a moment and glanced down at it before stuffing it into her pocket. It read: _Odrade's__ Fresh Food Mart_ and gave an address. Nikki thought it sounded vaguely familiar and realized that her family drove by that way whenever they went to visit Grandma May, whom her sister May was named for.

With a shrug, she began walking home. The walk turned into a run when she saw two of the tough boys from school making a beeline straight for her. She had gotten out of the more densely crowded area and found herself alone on an empty back road with two vicious looking brutes rushing toward her. For the first time, Nikki felt sheer terror shooting through her veins.


	5. Spider Eyes

Ok, I finally got the next chapter up. Hope you like it! Thank you Emma Laraliean and Despair Faction for reviewing!

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Nikki's feet pounded against the hard cement, feeling the impact of every step shoot up her legs like tiny bullets. Her eyes somehow seemed to see a flash of red and blue coming straight toward her from behind. Instinctively, she dropped to her knees on the ground and ducked her head. Nikki's long hair tumbled in front of her face and blocked her vision, but she was still strangely aware of the flying blur that soared over her.

Quickly, the terrified girl scrambled to her feet and wiped her hair awkwardly out of her face. When she looked up at the wall of the building in front of her, Nikki found herself staring into the largest blank eyes she had ever seen. "Spider-man?" she gasped, feeling a thrill of excitement and a little nervous at the same time.

The eerie eyes surveyed her for a second. Then the crimson and navy clad figure leaped over her, landing in a crouch on the ground in front of her two pursuers. Nikki spun around and gaped in amazement as he proceeded to fight them, though she thought he seemed to be more toying with them than fighting. After all, what chance did two high school boys have against the amazing Spider-man? In a matter of moments, they realized that that their adversary was definitely more than they could handle and turned tail to flee.

"Hold up, guys. I'm not done with you yet," Spider-man called after them. He did a somersault in the air, landing directly in their path. Before the boys had a chance to react, Spider-man had grabbed them both by their collars and jumped back and forth between two walls until he was standing on a roof where he could let them dangle for a moment.

"Now, I have some advice for you two, so listen close," Spider-man hissed at them threateningly. "Never – and I mean _never_ – bother that girl again, got it?" The frightened boys bobbed their heads frantically, their eyes begging him to put them down. Spidey nodded approvingly. "Good. Because if you do, I will string you up by your toes and let you hang there until the police find you. Now, you two better get back to school. Wouldn't want to miss any class." He dropped agilely to the ground, letting them go, and watched them stagger in terror for a moment before racing off in the direction of their high school.

Spider-man smiled behind his mask and shook his head. Would they never learn? "You won't have to worry about those guys anymore, Nikki. They looked pretty worried, didn't you think?" Not getting a response, the web-slinger turned around and swept the whole area with his sharp vision, mistaking a faint blue silhouette on the wall for some old graffiti. The worry on his face as he realized his daughter was gone was hidden by the luminous eyes of his mask. "Nikki?"

Spidey leapt up onto the wall, only to feel himself tumble through. Rolling, he was on his feet again in a moment and staring about himself in amazement. Spider-man realized he was standing in an abandoned building and tried to figure out how he had gotten there. There was no sign of a hole in the wall, just a dim splotch of blue.

Suspiciously, he frowned and walked carefully over to it, wondering why there would be a mirror image of the graffiti on the outside wall in here. Spidey reached out and laid his gloved hand on the barely discernible silhouette, finding with surprise that it was soft. He pushed against it, watching as his hand, followed by his arm, disappeared through it. Slowly the wall began to stiffen. Spider-man yanked his arm back out again, this time with some difficulty. Then, before his very eyes, the graffiti which he now recognized as a glow faded and vanished.

The masked vigilante blinked. He touched it again, but the wall was now as solid as ever. Something was obviously afoot. It occurred to him that Nikki might have something to do with it. Maybe she had been captured by some one and was now in danger! There was only one way to find out. With a swift shot of web fluid, Spider-man soared out through a broken window and vanished into the New York skyline.

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Please read and review!


	6. Fight!

My apologies for how long it took. This chapter is much longer than last time, so hopefully that will make you happy!

Emma Laraliean – Glad you liked it! I hope this chapter is just as good!

Despair Faction – Sorry it was so short and hopefully I'll be able to sit down and write the next chapter sooner this time.

jjonajameson – Yeah, it is a different take. I just kinda wanted to see what could happen with some one other than Spider-girl who gets along so well with her dad and all.

Chocolate Starfish – Thanks for the encouragement!

You guys are great! And to the rest of you, please read AND review!

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As the two boys tried pathetically to fight off Spider-man, the lone onlooker watched silently from her spot against the wall. She was attempting to draw as little attention to herself as possible and figure out some way to escape without being noticed. Suddenly, Nikki remembered Chemistry class yesterday. Though the embarrassing memory made her wince, she thought about how she had walked through the wall of the English room intentionally. Could she do that again?

Nikki cast a glance back at her savior. Now the poor guys were trying to run away, but Spider-man jumped in front of them and grabbed their shirt collars. Then he began leaping back and forth from wall to wall, carrying them up to a rooftop. Nikki's parents always spoke well of Spider-man, which contrasted sharply with everything she read in the paper and heard at school. Seeing what he did with his captives would prove to her once and for all if he was a true hero or not. However, Nikki decided that she didn't want to wait around and find out.

Taking a deep breath, Nicole Parker turned and plunged into the wall behind her. Everything instantly became suffocatingly dark for what seemed like forever. At last, she broke into a dimly lit room and hunched over, gasping in the musty air. There was something about not being able to breathe and lost in pitch blackness that Nikki found absolutely unnerving, although perhaps that wasn't entirely unreasonable.

It took the poor girl a minute to recover from the shock. Nikki finally stopped panting and scanned the room of the old abandoned warehouse until she spotted a door that led outside. Then she ran. Usually, Nikki was not a particularly good athlete. She passed gym class on the good graces of the teacher and rarely did anything very active unless she had to. But today Nikki didn't notice how fast she was running or even the direction. Her eyes were blinded by tears of anguish. Eventually she ran straight through the door of her house and up the steps to her room where she sank onto her bed, her head in her hands.

For a moment she just sat there, unmoving. Then Nikki slowly got to her feet and began pacing the room, assessing the situation aloud in hopes that hearing herself talk would give her some much needed inspiration.

"Let's see here. Yesterday, I got sick in school and ended up falling through the floor. So somehow I can walk through walls now and glow blue. Ok, that's not that bad. I can deal with it." She stopped at the side of her room with the window and paused a moment to gaze out at the street beyond. When she saw some one strolling along the sidewalk, Nikki suddenly ducked away and continued her long stride to the opposite end of her room.

"But then I get perfect vision, sticky fingers and – " Here she stopped for a moment and thought about the incident in the park. "– really good reflexes. I didn't get even a little tired when I ran home away from those boys. What's going on?" Nikki threw herself down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. "I wonder what Spider-man was doing over there anyway."

She got up again and walked over to stare at herself in the mirror. Nikki remembered again that she hadn't taken a shower that morning and yanked off her sweat shirt that she'd thrown on before dashing off to school. Maybe Nikki was a little calm for most girls, being able to stop and try to think things out even when she discovered that she could do something completely incredible. But things really started to get freaky when she realized she had apparently grown muscles overnight. Nikki also rarely swore, but she did now. Her usually petite body had been replaced by some crazy body builder's dream.

Slowly she dropped onto the bed, still gaping in amazement at herself in the mirror. Her mind went over all possible reasons for this, but only came up with one: the scalpel wound. Nikki studied her hand closely. All that she could see was a neat little half-circle scar. She flipped it over to examine her palm and could almost barely make out miniscule pointy hair-like objects sticking out of her fingers on both hands. They were probably too small to be seen by the normal human eye, but Nikki had stopped bothering to pretend anything about her was "normal" anymore.

The door slammed downstairs and she jumped to her feet, pulling the sweatshirt over her head quickly again to disguise her new found strength. In a few seconds, her bedroom door crashed open, as if thrown against the wall by an invisible force. A panting and wild eyed Peter Parker stood in the doorway.

"Dad?"

* * *

"What do you think is up with Mom and Dad?"

"I don't know, but it has something to do with Nikki. I think she got in trouble at school or something."

"Well she better not get grounded too badly or we won't be able to go to the Yankees game next week."

"Oh, Ben. Dad spent too much money on those tickets to just not go because Nikki has been made a prisoner of her room for the next five years." A light hearted laugh.

"Hey, maybe if Nikki can't go, I can bring a friend instead since we'll have an extra ticket!"

Nikki groaned and stared at the upside down door as she listened to her younger siblings sitting in Ben's room, discussing her probable fate. She was now lying on her bed with her head hanging off the end in boredom. For some reason, that position felt relaxing, even though before she would have complained of the blood rushing into her head. Ever since that rather frightening moment when her dad burst through her door, Nikki had been confined to this world of utter monotony, otherwise known as her room.

She could still picture him. Peter had looked kind of scary, like he wanted to kill something, or some one. When he saw his daughter standing there in front of him, stunned and totally innocent, Peter's face filled with relief. But even the relief couldn't block out the warning in his mind that something was going on. So he told her to stay where she was and left, closing the door behind him. However, his voice was more like a vicious snarl and Nikki cringed at how loud the door banged shut.

Apparently he called her mother, because Mary Jane arrived home early from the theater where she had been working with the young actresses all day. Nikki watched her car pull into the garage through the window, and it occurred to her for the first time that her dad never took the car to work. Ben and May arrived an hour later from school and were immediately directed up to Ben's room where they were forced to share in the depressive silence of the house.

Sometimes muffled voices drifted up the steps into Nikki's room from the kitchen. She could never make out a thing that her parents were saying, but it sounded serious. Just as she was about to get up and go downstairs, the door opened and her father's upside down face once more looked in at her.

Nikki scrambled off the bed and the world turned right side up again. "Hey," was all she said and all she got in return. Peter looked as though he seriously wanted to talk about something with her but was toying with his words and not sure where to begin. Nikki had recovered from his surprising entrance earlier that afternoon and was now feeling extremely annoyed with him, even more so because of the oncoming storm. She made no effort to make him feel more comfortable.

Finally Peter worked up the nerve to begin, still wondering if there even was a beginning point to all this. "Nikki, um, I know I haven't always been there for you but-"

"Haven't always been there for me?" Nikki cut in angrily. Peter tried to keep going, but she didn't give him a chance. "You've never been there for me! Let me think of where to start! Oh, I know: choir. You know my friend Maddie? Wait, you wouldn't know because you're never at home long enough to meet anyone." Nikki gritted her teeth in irritation and struggled to contain the rage that threatened to overwhelm her. Fifteen years of pent-up anger was suddenly coming out in a rush.

Peter continued to appear to take the berating coolly, arms crossed and leaning against the doorpost. He had expected as much for his behavior toward her earlier and obviously didn't realize he'd stepped into the danger zone. When her furious stare rested on her calm father, Nikki felt another spike of anger boiling up inside her. She was practically shouting now.

"Maddie's dad is a pilot so he's gone a lot. But he still manages to make it to all her choir concerts! I have two concerts a year and my dad teaches science at the university, but he still can't make it to either of them! And Maddie's family is rich too. Let's face it, Dad. We're not poor, but we're not exactly living in the lap of luxury either. I don't know where you are all the time, but I'm not going to keep pretending to believe that stupid lie that you're out 'on the job'! Why won't you just tell me the truth?" This last demand was more of a plea than anything, but it went unheeded.

Peter felt something flare up inside him momentarily and desperately attempted to draw the subject away from where it was inevitably headed. Even though that was what he had intended to talk about originally, his habitual guard flew up when he feared his secret might get out.

"Well, I don't see how bringing in a whole lot more money would help things. I mean, what would you do with it anyway?" His eyes scanned the room for a moment before settling on a shirt that hung off the doorknob to her closet and widened angrily. "Don't tell me you've worn that to school!"

A bit taken aback, Nikki glanced over at the spaghetti-strap tank top he was staring at so accusingly. Lots of her summer shirts were like that. Rolling her eyes, Nikki couldn't keep the growing disdain out of her now sarcastic voice. "Wow. Don't get too excited, but my dad actually looked around my room long enough to notice something I have in it. That's a first."

At that moment, Peter Parker could have smacked the girl that stood in front of him, glaring mockingly into his eyes. He knew she was taunting, daring him to touch her. Peter realized that Nikki seemed unusually confident this evening, as if she knew something he didn't. As though she thought she could actually defend herself against anything. If only she knew.

Peter brushed the thought aside and proceeded to administer some fatherly justice. "You go to your room right now, young lady. And don't you roll your eyes at me anymore!"

Nikki did it again, anyway, with great exaggeration. "In case you haven't noticed, Dad, I _am_ in my room. And by the way, I'm _not_ a young lady anymore." As an accent to her last remark, she slammed the door in his face. Peter let out a yelp and leaped back to avoid getting clobbered by a solid inch and a half of oak.

"Nikki!" he growled angrily, smacking one fist against the door before collapsing heavily against the wall behind him in despair. Now he was wondering how the situation had gotten so out of control. All he had wanted to do was protect her and even build a little bit of a father-daughter bond by telling her his precious secret. But it had turned into a shouting match, pushing her farther away and frightening his other two children.

"Peter?" a voice called timidly. With all the tumultuous emotions flooding through him, it took a minute to recognize the voice as his wife's. He slowly turned around to gaze into her concerned emerald eyes mournfully. The two stared silently at each other for a moment. Then MJ turned and tiptoed down the steps, her ever-present grace giving her the appearance of floating. Peter gave the door one last apologetic glance before following his wife into the kitchen just as the first raindrops began pounding the roof.

* * *

May and Ben sat forlornly on his bed as they watched the whole exchange play itself out. Ben stifled a sob and snuggled up close against his thirteen-year-old sister when it was over. She hugged him motherly to herself and let her pain-filled gaze drift to the open window in the room.

A soft night breeze had let itself in along with a sprinkling of rain, but neither made a move to close the window. The wind tousled May's wavy brown hair and barely tickled Ben's short tight red curls. They didn't know it yet, but that night, it would be the only thing to comfort them.

* * *

"MJ, listen!" Peter groaned in frustration, no longer aware of the fact that he had started walking quickly and agitatedly around the kitchen where they had barricaded themselves to talk in private, away from listening ears. "The way she talked to me, the way she looked at me, the way she acted…she knows, Mary Jane! I'm sure of it!"

Mary Jane sighed and got a far off look in her eyes. "Peter," she began slowly, awaiting an angry and shocked response to her suggestion. "Maybe, well, you know she's fifteen. Maybe it's time to tell her."

Peter stopped his caged animal imitation and slammed both his hands down on the table. "That's what I was trying to do today! Obviously it didn't work. Please answer this, MJ. How do you tell your daughter that you're Spider-man?"

Nikki jerked her head back out through the wall of the kitchen and ran upstairs, the tell-tale blue glow fading too quickly to be noticed.


	7. Runaway

Alrighty. Well, I guess I didn't get this one up a whole lot faster, but I certainly got a lot more reviews. Thanks to you all!

Despair Faction – Thanks! And, thanks again! I hope you like this chapter just as much!

Jjonahjameson – You gave me some great pointers! Suggestions are much appreciated!

Hotsauce6548 – Thank you! Glad you like it!

Mary Jane Watson-Parker – Wow, thanks so much! I guess you can kinda identify with the characters then, huh?

Funness – Good to hear that I'm presenting the emotions well. About an explanation of her powers, I have already written that section down and you will see it in a future chapter.

Laurajslr – It is kinda cool to think about what they would be like as parents. Third movie maybe? crosses fingers

* * *

A wad of twenty dollar bills landed on an open backpack. Then they were quickly covered by some flying tank tops. Nikki also tossed in a few pairs of jeans and all the stuff she kept in the bathroom minus her contacts. After gathering a few more important and prized possessions, she shoved everything inside her bag and looked around.

It was a weird feeling to suddenly pack up and leave everything behind. _But_, Nikki reminded herself, _it's not forever. I'm just staying with Grandma May for a few days. Then I'll come back and Dad will apologize for everything he's done to us._ She smiled at the thought, even if she wasn't quite sure how likely the second part of her imagined scenario was.

Nikki's plan was simple. She stay with her grandmother until her dad got over being angry at her and even felt bad about it. Of course she knew better than to get some crazy idea of running away for good. Nikki knew she had no where to go and being a fifteen-year-old out on their own in New York City was about as stupid as you could get. Nikki was not stupid. She was reasonable. And she wasn't staying here a minute longer than she had to.

So, after surveying the room briefly to make sure nothing vital had been forgotten, Nikki grabbed her stuff and strode confidently over to the wall. Then she took a deep breath, slung her backpack over a glowing shoulder, and jumped out.

* * *

Peter grumbled to himself the whole way up the steps. He still hadn't figured out how Mary Jane could be so persuasive. Finally he made it to the top and knocked nervously on the door, hoping he wouldn't have to break his way in to talk to his daughter.

There was no answer. Sighing, Peter knocked again and this time called out, "Nikki, listen. We have to talk. I'm really sorry about what happened." No response. He tried the door handle and found it was unlocked.

Slowly he pushed the door open. The room was dark and empty. The only sound was the patter of large droplets slapping against the window pane.

Peter blinked back thickening threads of worry that were trying to wrap themselves around him and assumed Nikki must be hiding, although that sounded a little immature for a teenager. However, after a few moments of scouring, Peter Parker reached the sickening conclusion that his daughter was gone.

* * *

Nikki clutched the soaked backpack to herself miserably. How could she have been so foolish as to think that just her amazing new abilities would get her safely through this torrential rain? She had been thoroughly drenched within minutes, leaving the poor girl to stumble blindly along the sidewalks and desperately trying to convince herself that she wasn't lost.

Unfortunately, she was. The sky was about the same color as the macaroni and cheese Ben had made last week when he forgot to boil it in water. Black and charred. Nikki could barely see whether or not she was on the sidewalk, and reading street signs was pretty much out of the question.

All of the sudden, a gunshot ripped into her despondent thoughts. Instantly, Nikki forgot about being wet and hurried ahead to see what was going on. When she reached the store, her bag tumbled to the ground.

A man with a gun was holding up a cashier and looked like he had already knocked out the only other worker in the small shop. He waited as the terrorized lady began shoving some money into a bag for him. Nikki's first instinct was to scream for the police. Then it occurred to her. She had the abilities to stop this guy. His bullets would go right through her!

But before the girl had a chance to play hero, Nikki recognized the cashier. She was Lanae, a senior from school who continually picked on Erin, one of Nikki's friends, during volleyball. "Eh, on second thought, it's not a lot of money," she told herself and began to turn away. "He'll probably just take what he came for and go."

Suddenly, Lanae looked out and saw her. "Hey! Help!" She screamed frantically. The robber turned around and fired through the window at Nikki.

The bullet sped at her in slow motion. She started to duck, but a strange sense in the back of her neck told her that it was coming too fast and she was too close. Nikki squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the lead shoot through her chest before she hit the ground.

The robber got a little freaked out when he watched the girl crumple onto the sidewalk. Turning, he saw the cashier giving him a horrified look. Sirens sounded in the distance, startling them both. Instincts took over and he raised the gun to her head, pulling the trigger.

Two feet crashed into his chest, sending the man flying into a shelf. Lanae screamed in pain as the bullet ripped through her shoulder and fell across the cash register, unconscious. The robber barely had a chance to stagger dazedly to his feet before a punch to the head knocked him out like a light.

Spider-man turned and looked up to see the flashing red and blue police lights reflecting in the broken shards of the window. If only the NYPD would notice the similarity between his costume and their sirens, maybe they could work together.

"But until then, I think I better be going," Spidey grunted as he webbed the robber up and jumped out the broken window, swinging away into the night. He had something much bigger than getting along with the police on his mind tonight.

* * *

Nikki stepped timidly out of the alleyway and watched Spider-man vanish into the heavy fog that hung over the city because of the still pouring rain. Before she had a chance to really let the close call sink in, she saw the newly arrived paramedics rolling two stretchers out of the store. They were talking loudly over the screeching sirens.

"Yeah, I think that one will be fine. Just a nasty bop on the head to put him out. But this one took a shot pretty badly. She'll probably need surgery and…"

Their voices droned on, but Nikki stopped listening. She knew what she could have done and was suddenly feeling extremely guilty. A bullet with a hint of blue lay on the street where she had landed. Nikki picked it up and took one last look at the destruction. She had faked dead to avoid being shot at again and then fled as soon as the she knew she was out of danger. _What a cowardly thing to do!_ Nikki thought irritably and closed her fist around the small piece of lead.

Spider-man's amazing appearance and how he had saved Lanae's life came back vividly to mind. But Peter Parker should have been out looking for her, not worrying about petty robberies in New York. The people of this city had gotten him for long enough. Angrily, Nikki tossed the bullet into a gutter at the same time voices from the police questioning two guys reached her ears.

"Somebody else got shot too! I saw it!"

"Yeah, it was a little girl! She fell to the ground and I guess I didn't notice her until after Spider-man came and saved that cashier. When I looked back, she was gone!"

Nikki's face blanched. If those witnesses spotted her, she'd instantly be questioned and examined for any gunshot wounds. And explaining how she took a bullet through the chest and run away from the scene was not high on her to-do list. Nikki looked around worriedly for somewhere to hide.

Only one store across the street was still open and suddenly seemed incredibly inviting. Nikki grabbed her bag up off the sidewalk and forced herself not to run too fast. Nobody paid any attention to a teenage girl with a blue backpack and she made it across the street unnoticed.

A little bell rang inside the shop as the door opened. The dark haired and well dressed manager looked up from a magazine he was reading to see the customer who had come in at such a late hour. His face lit up instantly and he hurried from behind the counter, dropping the magazine on it.

Nikki gaped stupidly at the hand extended to her as if she'd never seen anyone do that before. Her wits had somewhat been left back on the sidewalk where she had fallen. They returned in a rush as she recognized the cheery man in front of her.

His hand had dropped back to his side, but the smile remained. "I see you decided to take me up on my offer. It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Parker."

Nikki glanced to her right and saw a sign on the counter. _Welcome to Odrade's Fresh Food Mart!_


	8. Fantasma

Sorry about the wait everyone! I await your comments on the new OC's. One last thing, if you could please take the time to review on this chapter, it would be greatly appreciated!

jjonahjameson – Nice prediction! I hope you like this chapter just as much.

Despair Faction – Thanks for the compliments!

laurajslr – Yeah, I agree. I'm sure I'll like whatever they do. And yes, I think you read my mind. This chapter opens with Spidey again.

hotsauce6549 – Thanks! That's always been my favorite part in Spider-man stories and movies – when he drops in and saves the day!

Jolly Jeff – Yeah, disclaimers…why we need them, I will never know. And glad you liked my summary. I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but it was changing quite frequently for a while. I think I'll stick with this one though.

A very great thanks to Tokoyo who graciously was my beta for this chapter!

* * *

Spider-man perched sideways on a flagpole and gazed over his city through bloodshot eyes. He'd already checked with every superhero and threatened every supervillain in New York during the past three days. Well, every one except Mysterio.

When Spidey had visited the prison where his foe was now spending his days, all he'd gotten in response to a request to meet with him was, "I can't talk now. I'm very busy coming up with an impressive way to escape from this miserable jail cell."

Of course, the warden who had relayed this message to Spider-man had repeated it with a straight face, making Peter doubt that anything would be done. No surprise there. Those guys were always escaping. Except this time he wouldn't have to be surprised when Mysterio was sighted on the loose again.

But Spider-man was not feeling particularly witty or sarcastic right now. Nikki was still nowhere to be found and the few leads he had gotten were just dead ends, leaving him feeling more hopeless and despairing than before.

A description from the police of a mysterious girl at a robbery Spider-man had stopped the night his daughter disappeared had been the most promising, but still unlikely. There was no explanation for how a girl could be shot dead and disappear a few seconds later without a trace. Still, Peter was glad that it wasn't true. Nikki being dead was even more frightening than if she was just missing. He couldn't find and save a girl who'd he had already lost for good.

Peter had been allowed off work on account of his missing daughter. Apparently the extra time wasn't really making much of a difference, not that they knew what he was doing.

MJ had actually been the one to insist through bitter sobs that they had to report it to the police. Even though Peter doubted that they would be able to find anything Spider-man couldn't, it was impossible to say no to his inconsolable wife. They had to explain the fact that she wouldn't be in school somehow.

In the end, he had convinced her not to call until the next day in case Nikki showed up before then. A stubbornness in him, probably from relying on his spider powers for so many years, didn't want to admit defeat immediately. Besides, where did a fifteen-year-old girl have to go? Apparently somewhere, because the police were now on the case.

So here he was, three days later. The amazing Spider-man couldn't even find his own daughter. His suit was beginning to annoy him a lot. It was sweat soaked and just plain disgusting. Peter hadn't donned his normal clothes since Nikki had disappeared.

His thoughts began to wonder back to the argument they'd had that night. What he wouldn't give to go back and apologize now. Unfortunately for Peter, it would be a long time before he got a chance to do it again.

Light began to break over the horizon, and for a moment, the silent figure watched the morning approach. Then he leaped off the flagpole, plummeting toward the ground.

A thin strand of webbing jerked him upward at the last minute and Spider-man was swept off through the crisp morning air. But the entire thrill from the wind ripping past him and tearing the breath from his throat as he swooped over the ribbons of street below was lost on him. It was going to be another long day.

* * *

"Would you like me to show you around?" Veron Odrade asked with a winning smile that was now beginning to make Nikki a little uncomfortable.

"Uh, I guess that would be okay." She looked about the small shop, wondering how much there could be to show. To her surprise, the man walked directly over toward the back of the store and began doing something to a shelf that held stacks of cereal boxes.

Suddenly, the shelf swung back, revealing a dark and foreboding stair case. "Could this day get any more bizarre?" Nikki mumbled to herself under her breath.

Veron fumbled for a switch and a soft light seeped into the passageway. If anything could scream _don't go in there!_ more than this, she didn't know what it was. "Coming?" he asked, before striding confidently down the steps.

Nikki hesitated a moment. Then she realized that if anything happened, how hard would it be to just walk out through a wall? With a little bit of a smirk on her face at a remembrance of her powers, Nikki turned and hurried after him.

She had expected a dim and dirty old basement coated in cobwebs and discolored floors. However, she had not expected to walk down the ancient wooden steps into a welcoming living room.

Leather couches and armchairs were scattered about over the soft carpeting, and a large television took up the majority of the wall to her left. The three newest game systems could be made out under an impossible tangle of cords near the TV. Ben would be forever jealous.

She could see that a chess game had been started on a small rosewood coffee table near a couch. Speaking of coffee, the strong scent of roasted beans came wafting in from a good sized kitchen with wood flooring that was off to her right.

Straight ahead was a hallway with about six different rooms that she guessed to be mostly bedrooms. This little living space probably took up the basements of three shops in a row.

Veron Odrade seemed please with her stunned silence as she took everything in. He led her about four doors down the hallway and opened a door.

A hug canopy bed with jewel encrusted posts greeted her. Nikki dropped her backpack and her jaw as she stared about in awe. The room was much bigger than her old bedroom at home and everything in it seemed to have at least a few semi-valuable parts to it.

"This is yours."

Nikki spun around to gape at the man next to her stupidly. "Mine?"

Veron's smile broadened. "Yes. I assumed you didn't have anywhere to stay since you wandered in here." His eyes had a funny look in them; as if anyone her age who wandered in here obviously had nowhere else to go. Did he know about the argument with her dad? Did he know she was running away?

She dropped her eyes, a little embarrassed. "Uh, thanks."

"You're very welcome." He turned and began walking back out down the hallway. "If you're wondering, I'm not the only one who lives here. I have to go up and run the shop so I'll leave you alone for now. The others should be returning shortly." Veron glanced at his watch once before starting up the steps.

Nikki stared after him until he disappeared back out through the shelf-door. Then she began looking around her room again. All hers? It was gorgeous!

Suddenly, a childish urge from long ago took over. She remembered walking through old houses that had been turned into museums with her family. She'd always wanted to jump up onto the big beautiful beds, but of course was rarely even allowed to step foot inside the sacred room.

Forgetting about her backpack, Nikki bolted forward and threw herself on top of the down comforter, sinking deep into the huge four-post. For a moment, she just lay there. Then she rolled off and went to grab her bag. Nikki dropped it at the foot of the bed, flopping down again on the soft sheets.

She quickly began emptying the blue backpack. Clothes, toiletries, memorabilia, and a Spanish-English dictionary tumbled out. "I thought I left this at home with my other books," Nikki mused. She shrugged and tossed off to one side.

As the minutes ticked away on her silver clock, she began to wonder what exactly Mr. Odrade's definition of "shortly" was. It had been almost an hour since he had left her. Nikki had already scoured the room and discovered all its neat little treasures, but hadn't yet gained the nerve to venture outside her room and explore further.

Boredom set in and she began to wish that she had brought a few of her favorite books or something to do. Then Nikki spotted the dictionary, still lying half open on its side where it had landed. "I guess I could look up what those kids were talking about back at school." She snagged it and sat on a cushioned chair to read.

Nikki flipped through a few pages until she spotted the word she was looking for: fantasma. It meant: "ghost, phantom, spook."

"Oh, what a surprise. They were talking about me." She threw it on the ground again, but couldn't help thinking that fantasma sounded like a cool nickname. Who knew? With these powers, she might actually want one in the near future.

1:30 AM found Nikki asleep in her new bed, the "others" still not home.

* * *

"What the - ! That is _so_ not what I said to him!"

"Look, Missy, I don't care what you 'said', I just want you to stay away from him. Got that?"

"Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you both _shut up!_"

"Um, hi. Do you guys live here?"

Four startled faces turned to stare at Nikki as she peered nervously out into the living room. A boy about her age got over his surprise first and motioned for the newcomer to come in. "You must be Nikki! I'm Jake."

Jake's grin seemed inviting enough, so Nikki hesitantly joined the group. He looked friendly, but also gave her the idea that he could also be very dangerous if he needed to be. His hair was brown, almost red if it had been in brighter light. She shook his hand, a bit startled by the strength in his grip, and noticed one of the girls giving her a threatening glare.

Nikki could see the venom in her eyes and made the handshake brief. Jake didn't notice. She tore her gaze away from the angry girl as he started talking again.

"I'm Jake. My nickname's Mimic. I can imitate any sound at all. Say something."

"Uh, I don't know," Nikki giggled embarrassedly, looking around for help from the serious faces that stared back at her. She heard her voice repeating itself.

"Uh, I don't know."

She whipped around to stare in shock at Jake. Had he just said that? "Wow," she breathed.

"Wow."

"Ok," Nikki frowned playfully, hands on her hips. "That's enough. Otherwise I'll start calling you Mocking Bird."

Jake took on a hurt look, but quickly laughed it off. "Alright, you win. I'm also the team's main weapons guy." Then he began introducing the group.

First was a boy who looked to be twelve. He had a foolish grin continually plastered on his face. "He never speaks," Jake told her, "so we just call him C-Cat." At the raised eyebrow she gave him, he laughed again, ruffling the boy's messy sand colored hair and continued.

"It all has to do with his abilities. The first time Odrade brought him here, this little guy disappeared right before our eyes leaving nothing but his trademark smile. It reminded us of the Cheshire cat, so we started calling him by that. But eventually it got shortened to just C-Cat."

C-Cat obviously had vocal chords, which he put to use for Nikki immediately with a devilish little giggle. Then he suddenly vanished, leaving nothing but a hand. The hand gave Nikki's long hair a yank before it too disappeared with a final laugh.

Jake half scolded the air where C-Cat had been a moment before and then turned apologetically to Nikki. She was a bit stunned. "How does he do that? Does he turn invisible or something?"

"No," Jake shook his head, thoughtfully. "We're not exactly sure how it works, or even how he ended up with this ability in the first place because he won't talk. But C-Cat doesn't teleport or turn invisible. He just disappears. And beware of the mysterious floating head joke. He likes to pull that one on new people since he can make as much of himself disappear as possible."

Nikki blinked, and then nodded, even though she really had no idea what he was talking about. Jake sensed her confusion and gave her a friendly little smile before motioning at the girl who had made it quite clear already that she already disliked Nikki very much.

"This is Allie. Her nickname is Krystelle because, well, she can create crystals." Allie walked forward, ignoring Nikki's outstretched hand and latching onto Jake's arm instead. Her blonde hair was about shoulder length, wavy and perfect; perfect like Nikki could never get her hair to be.

Last was an aloof young woman who simply nodded in acknowledgement. Thorn wouldn't say her age, but looked to be in her early twenties. She had long jet black hair that was as straight as a table leg and continually wore something Nikki knew her father wouldn't have approved of. Jake said that her name was Serena, which didn't fit her at all, so she mostly went by Thorn.

"And what do you do?" Nikki asked carefully. Thorn considered her for a moment, and then held up her hands. Tiny holes opened up all over her palms, allowing thin, silvery needles to shoot out. They kept growing, not getting any thicker and soon resembled slender metallic ropes, curling and lashing about as if they had minds of their own.

A sly smile crossed the woman's face. Something in Nikki's head screamed for her to move, but Thorn was faster. Her spines suddenly surged forward and wrapped Nikki up even as she started to duck away.

The spines lifted her into the air, giving her a full view of the surprised faces below. C-Cat was back and Jake was muttering something about how good her reflexes were: she'd almost evaded Thorn!

Nikki looked around, then down at Thorn. Time to show off her own talents. Closing her eyes, she concentrated for a moment and tumbled through the coils to the ground. Thorn gaped at her, and then back at the bright blue spines. She slowly reabsorbed them, turning her stare back to Nikki. Allie's eyes were bugging out of her head and C-Cat's smile was even broader, almost bordering on creepy.

Jake just shook his head in amazement and grinned at her. "Well, everyone, it looks like we have found our new team member." Cheers erupted from the group. At first they were a little hesitant to actually touch the girl who could glow, but got over their fear quickly enough.

"So," he asked her when they had all calmed down, "what's your nickname?"

Nikki looked around at Allie's still slightly jealous but now accepting face, Thorn who was leaning against the wall, trying not to act interested, C-Cat's bizarre grin, and finally into Jake's rather beautiful emerald eyes. Then she smiled. "You can call me Fantasma."

* * *


	9. Choice, Sacrifice, and Destiny

This chapter took FOREVER to get right. The first few pages were rewritten about five times, so hopefully all that work was worth it. We'll see. And sorry it took so long, but now you've heard my excuse. Oh, and here's a little challenge for you guys. The first person to figure out what's unique about the chapter title will get a special acknowledgement in the next author's note.

Funness – I'm glad you like my mutants and Nikki's name. This isn't gonna turn into an X-men fic or anything, so no one has to worry about that. But they will be mentioned as though they also exist.

Jolly Jeff – Hmm, I think I know who you're talking about. C-Cat and Jake your favs? Heh, I didn't realize this until later, but I ended up making the two nicer characters boys. Oh well!

Racetrack's Goil – Good to know some one else feels the same way I do. It really bugs me when people put all that language and other trash in their stories. They don't need that! So I can promise you that there will not be anything like that in here.

jjonahjameson – Hey, you know some Spanish? Way cool! ¡Yo también! ¡Pero sólo un poco! I fixed the part about the stairs, but I'm not quite sure what you thought was cliché-y about his eye color. The reason I had him have green eyes in the first place is so that he wasn't such a stereotypical "tall, dark, and handsome" or "blonde and blue-eyed".

laurajslr – Being original was something I was aiming for, so it sounds like I did at least one thing right. As far as Peter and MJ and Spider-man go, they won't have as big a part in the story for now…

hotsauce6548 – Thank you!

Mary Jane Watson-Parker – Thanks! It was one of those, "hmm, I need a name for this girl. Let's see, her powers are kinda like a ghost. AHA! I'll look up ghost in this Spanish-English dictionary and – voila! – Fantasma is born!"

Starlight-Dagger – Heh, I try! Thanks for the compliments!

Thanks again to Tokoyo who did a fabulous job as my beta for this chapter! And now, on with the show!

* * *

"All right, enough fussing. The coffee's done and I'm getting some before it's cold," Thorn announced and stalked brusquely into the kitchen.

Jake gave Nikki one last winning smile. Then he headed off, hollering, "Don't drink it all, Thorn!"

Nikki watched them all slowly return to what they had been doing before she'd arrived. It was as if they had paused a game for a few minutes in order to greet her but now had to start playing again. In a way, she got the sense that life actually _was_ a kind of game to them.

Jake and C-Cat sat down next to the chess set and instantly became absorbed. Allie started her homework, and Thorn never left the kitchen. Everything became quiet except for the occasional click of a marble chess piece. Still in a bit of a daze at her new found luck, Nikki sank down onto the couch, eyes glazing over in growing fatigue. She'd only slept for about a half an hour. How could these people stay awake? They seemed to be waiting for something.

"Check!" Jake shouted triumphantly, startling her.

C-Cat's grin faded only for a moment. Then he moved his knight to take his opponent's queen and began giggling hysterically. Though he didn't actually say anything, the look in the twelve-year-old's eyes told Jake that it was over. Checkmate.

Jake scowled and studied the board furiously for some mistake, but at last he admitted defeat. C-Cat got to his feet, the peculiar smile returning to his face, and disappeared.

Nikki jumped slightly in surprise, knocking a pillow off the couch. She wasn't sure that she'd ever be able to get used to the boy just vanishing without warning. It didn't seem to bother Allie who was sitting on the other end of the couch, writing in a notebook.

A shriek told them that C-Cat was now in the kitchen. Thorn came rushing out, enraged, and began to wrathfully scour the room. "C-Cat, you are dead when I find you!" she screeched.

Nikki caught a glimpse of the trademark smile floating mischievously behind Thorn. "Apparently hide and seek was never one of Thorn's favorite games when she was little – and her skills haven't improved much since then," she mumbled under her breath. Jake and Allie heard her and started sniggering.

Thorn didn't catch what was said, but she was smart enough to realize that the joke was about her. Throwing the innocent faced newcomer a hate-filled glare, she stormed up the steps at the same moment Veron Odrade returned from closing shop. Thorn shoved past him irritably. "I'm going out. Be back later," the fuming woman snarled even though he didn't ask anything.

Nikki watched Allie narrow her eyes in concentration and point her first finger at Thorn. Small, crystalline letters formed on the back of Thorn's dark blue shirt that read: _Out of my mind, back in five minutes_.

Raucous guffaws rang out the moment the door slammed behind her. Veron didn't look amused, but Jake said amiably, "You finally worked up the nerve to do it, huh Allie? We've been talking about that one for a while." He got up from the chess game and flopped down between the two girls on the couch, draping his arms around each of them as though they'd all been best friends forever.

Nikki was extremely aware of his hand on her shoulder, but even more conscious of the deep glowering frown that covered Allie's face and saw her Allie stiffen visibly under the weight of his arm. She tried to ignore it. "I thought Thorn lived here," she told Jake quizzically as Veron wearily slumped into one of the leather armchairs across from them. C-Cat was gone again.

Jake rolled his eyes and shot Allie a knowing grin. "Thorn doesn't _live_ anywhere. She just haunts places for long periods of time."

Allie nodded solemnly, refusing to laugh at the joke. Her pen continued to scratch roughly against her notebook, a little too hard, Nikki thought. It couldn't have been more obvious that she didn't approve of their newest team member than if she had stood up and screamed it at the top of her lungs.

Nikki's laughter quickly fell hollow and died away when she realized she was alone. For a few minutes, the room was shrieking in its awkward silence. Then Veron finally broke it with an attempt at intelligent conversation. "Maybe you guys could all tell Nikki a little bit about yourselves."

Jake raised his hand, his voice imitating a nerdy student. "I'm Jake, I like playing basketball, and my favorite food is pizza." Nikki giggled.

Veron groaned. "Never mind him. Allie?"

"I'd rather not discuss it, if you don't mind," she informed them icily, not once looking up from her work.

"What, were you caught robbing a bank or something?" Nikki laughed. She hardly expected the response she got. Her comment was met with somber stares. Glancing about worriedly, Nikki tried again rather falteringly. "You guys aren't, like, thieves or something are you?"

Once again, she got no real answer. Veron kept fumbling distractedly with his hands and Allie was obviously not really paying attention to what she was doing anymore. At last Jake spoke up. "Listen, Nikki. You have to understand…" His voice trailed off and he gave Veron a helpless look, but the man avoided his gaze. He wanted Jake to explain this. The boy needed some experience as a leader. Thorn wasn't going to be there forever.

"Look at us!" Jake finally said, exasperated, giving up on Veron. "We're not old enough to get proper jobs to provide for ourselves, but we still have to get money from somewhere."

Veron Odrade took over. "I need to start telling you about our – uh – little organization, Nikki." Allie stopped scribbling long enough to glance up at him and lift one of her perfectly styled eyebrows.

"It's Fantasma," Jake interrupted, giving Nikki a friendly smile.

Veron nodded rather approvingly and continued, though not without Nikki noticing that he had ignored Allie's look and getting a little suspicious. "I'm sure you've noticed by now that I probably couldn't afford a place like this with only what I make from my food mart."

Nikki's eyes strayed to the emerald and diamond studded grandfather clock that stood majestically against the wall. "No, really? I just figured you did a booming business selling groceries."

Veron caught the sarcasm and smiled nervously. "Yes, well, I wouldn't have been terribly impressed if you hadn't been able to figure that out."

Jake watched them both closely, wondering how well this would go. Even Allie seemed to have forgotten her books for the time being. She hadn't noticed her pencil drop onto the well-carpeted floor and roll away, landing near her foot.

Feeling rather unimpressed herself; Nikki nodded stiffly and asked, "So how _do_ you pay for this?" This was it, she thought with a hint of anger. Now he was going to tell her that she had to work to pay her rent or get thrown back out on the street. She had nowhere else to go but home, and that sounded extremely unappealing right now.

"I have one very simple job for my, ah, boarders in exchange for the cost of giving them a home, meals, and something to do." Veron cleared his throat dramatically. "They train to become thieves. With the help of their powers, of course."

A high pitched chortle interrupted him. C-Cat's floating head had appeared in the middle of the living room, beaming impishly at them. Allie groaned aloud, dropping her head into her hands and Veron began threateningly began to rise to his feet.

With a swift grin aimed at Nikki, the rest of C-Cat materialized below him. He was holding an overripe banana that had most likely been filched from the store upstairs. He began peeling the bright yellow skin off with great relish, obviously enjoying the attention he was getting, even if it was only because he had disrupted their conversation.

Veron's face had begun to turn a rather sickly shade of puce as her watched the boy. Allie's white fingers had unknowingly scrunched the paper in her lap into a ruined mess. Even Jake was chewing rather apprehensively on his bottom lip.

C-Cat seemed to be a bit of an embarrassment for the group, and each one of them seemed to have turned into time-bombs, just waiting to blow up. They were under enough stress right now and dealing with an immature twelve-year-old was certainly not helping the situation. C-Cat remained utterly oblivious to the welcome, or lack there of, he was getting. Instead, he took an enormous bite out of the stolen treat, still grinning foolishly.

Nikki was now staring in fascination at a small twitch that had started flicking at Veron's narrowed eyelid when he watched C-Cat chewing. As C-Cat started on his second mouthful, it happened; the three people exploded.

Leaping to their feet, they all bellowed in unison, "Kitchen, C-Cat. NOW!"

Almost instantly, he vanished, the smile on his face made even stranger by the look of surprise in his eyes. Everyone began breathing again and looked at each other as soon as he was gone. Suddenly they all burst out laughing. The room regained its warm atmosphere and the tension seemed to follow C-Cat into the kitchen.

"All right, you guys," Veron told them when they'd settled down a bit. "You better head off to bed." He turned to the potential recruit. "Nikki, why don't you think over what I said and let me know in the morning?"

He stood up and stretched. "If you would rather go back to your family and live a boring life trying to suppress the potential you have with your incredible ability…" He shrugged. "That's fine." Then Veron gave her another disarming smile. "But if you'd be willing to become Fantasma, our final team member, I can arrange everything from a new school, to even a costume. Allie's quite the fashion designer when it comes to that sort of thing."

He smiled persuasively at her and turned to walk down the hallway to his room. "Do think it over, Nikki. An opportunity like this won't often present itself."

She watched him go wordlessly. Her eyes dropped slowly to the floor and when he was gone she said flatly, "This is stupid."

"What?" Jake asked, turning to look at her with unmistakable concern in his gaze. "What's stupid?"

"Everything. The only reason Veron wants to 'help' is so that he can blackmail me into becoming his little thief." Nikki took a shaky breath, forcing herself to calm down. She jumped when she felt Jake wrap his arm about her gently.

He shook his head. "No, no. It's not like that at all." His tone was soothing and his touch, comforting. Jake made her feel like she belonged. "Think about it for a minute from our perspective, Nikki. All of the sudden you have nowhere to go. Just when your prospects are looking considerably bleak, someone shows up and offers you food and shelter in exchange for you to do a little thieving for him. We don't really have much choice. And besides, it _is_ pretty exciting." A roguish grin lit up his face.

She forced a smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Jake got up, yawning and started for the hallway, pausing to glare at the chess board. "I can't believe I was beaten by a kid who's four years younger than me. Ouch." He chuckled and waved before leaving them. "Please stay, Nikki," she heard him say quietly, almost pleadingly. Then he was gone.

The room was quiet for a minute; both girls were painfully aware of each other's presence and neither one wanting to acknowledge it. Nikki tried to break the ice. Allie looked to be about the same age and she would need to make as many friends as possible. She didn't have many options. "So, uh, you've been here for a while?"

"No," Allie shook her head, gathering up her books. Her star-colored hair shimmered as it reflected the light. "Not much longer than Jake."

"Oh," Nikki said. Why did this girl have to be so much prettier than her? "But you design costumes, right? That sounds fun." She became even more aware of the fact that her own tumble of brown was in a state of impossible tangles.

Suddenly, Allie grinned evilly, though it just made her face glow with even more radiance. "Making Thorn's was the most fun. Originally I created something that looked like it came out of a fairytale princess book. You can imagine her reaction."

Nikki laughed hard. Perhaps they could be friends after all. "I'll bet! I'm sure Jake and C-Cat got a good laugh out of it too."

Allie became deadly serious. "You realize that Jake and I are a couple, right?"

A little taken aback, Nikki bobbed her head in bewilderment. The girl's searing gaze was definitely not one to be taken lightly. This was probably the only warning she would get. Then it could get ugly.

"Good." Allie began walking back to her room, calling over her shoulder cheerfully, "See you in the morning."

_So now I'm a threat?_ Nikki thought, surprised. A noise told her that another door had closed and she realized C-Cat must have gone to bed, too. Sighing, she staggered tiredly back to her room and collapsed onto the welcoming jewel studded four-post. _Her_ room. The thought had a nice ring to it.

It seemed a little funny to be sleeping somewhere else, but it was really only for a night, she told herself. Somehow though, Nikki knew that it wasn't. She had a feeling that she'd finally found the place to belong, even if she had to put up with a girl who thought she was hitting on her boyfriend.

As she tossed about restlessly, Nikki wondered what her family would think of their daughter being a thief. This brought up unwanted thoughts: her mom crying, her dad trying to comfort her, and her little brother and sister sitting alone, scared. She pushed these away and snuggled down under the warm comforter.

Her parents had always instilled strong moral values in her, even as a little girl. Obviously her dad had used his powers for good. But now Nikki faced the same choice: she could become a hero like him, or she could become a thief. Why was it that this little group seemed to pull her in like a magnet? Maybe it was because her dad was a hero, and she didn't want to be like him.

"I'm old enough now," Nikki whispered softly to herself. "It's time that I chose my own path." Even with her new determination, sleep was long in coming and when it did, her dreams were strange.

She was watching a group of high school students walking around some sort of science lab. A boy of about eighteen years of age hung back from the group to talk to a pretty redhead. As he began taking her picture, Nikki saw a small eight legged creature crawl down a silver thread and land on his hand. Just as the girl hurried away, the spider sunk its fangs into his thumb.

The boy suddenly disappeared, but now she stood in his place. Nikki could feel the venom burning in her hand like a tiny inferno. Nikki stared at the bite feverishly. Turning her hand over, she gaped in horror as giant slits appeared on her wrists and sticky white strings shot out.

Before she had a chance to cry out in pain or shock, a thick blue liquid came rushing in out of nowhere, quickly filling the room. Nikki was knocked to the ground by the flood, feeling the pressure pushing her downward, forcing the very air from her lungs until she began falling through the floor.

She landed in a crouch in the middle of the lab basement and straightened up uncertainly. Smearing the chemical off of her face, Nikki looked at her wrists again. A blue glow had surrounded the slits. As she watched, they sealed closed just as quickly as the scalpel wound had.

Nikki squeezed her eyes shut and her mind finally released her from the bizarre and yet strangely horrifying dream; letting her drift off into a calm and undisturbed sleep. She didn't remember any of it in the morning.

* * *

"MJ, honey, I'm so sorry." Peter's voice cracked as he gathered his wife up in his arms. She sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder for what seemed like eternity. He buried his face in her hair, wishing desperately that none of this had happened. Peter had always felt like the luckiest man in the world when he held Mary Jane. Now guilt was seeping in and ruining this moment that used to be paradise. It was his fault she was crying; his fault Nikki was gone.

Slowly, Peter raised his head, eyes narrowing in determination. "I'm not going to stop looking for her, Mary Jane."

To his surprise, she pulled back and stared up at him, gripping his hands tightly in her own. "No," she whispered. "No, you can't kill yourself. I've already lost some one, and I'm not gonna lose you too. You've done everything you can." MJ's eyes dropped hopelessly. "It's over."

Her words, 'You've done everything you can', struck a painful chord deep inside him. It was almost exactly what the police had told him earlier that day. Their pitying faces were probably the worst part of this endless nightmare.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Parker, but we've done everything we can. We'll keep looking, though." Peter knew they wouldn't.

"Go and get some rest. You've been out searching for over two weeks now with barely more than a few hours of sleep." Mary Jane gave him a concerned look and pushed him toward the door. He allowed her to lead him, utter exhaustion suddenly dragging at his limbs as though it had been waiting in hiding all that time to jump out and pounce on him.

He walked slowly up the steps, stopping only to cringe when he heard MJ begin crying again. Those tears were not only because of a great loss. They were also the beginnings of letting go. Letting go of Nikki.

Trying to block the sound from his mind, Peter hurried on. He veered sharply as soon as he reached Ben's room where he knew his children would be and knocked on the door lightly. It was time to do what he should have done with Nikki long ago. He could only pray that they'd be much more forgiving.

* * *

So what did YOU think? Please let me know and review!


	10. Another Side of Krystelle

It's finally done! It took forever, but I'm really happy with how this chapter turned out and I hope you all will be too!

Mary Jane Watson-Parker – Thanks so much and I'm really glad you like it! I hope this chapter lives up to its predecessors!

Racetrack's Goil – Personalities are so important to the story! I'm also trying to give the kids powers that kind of hinge on their personalities. I think you'll see that in later chapters as they are introduced better to the reader.

Jjonaljameson – Hi to you too! I see what you mean now about his eyes. I think I actually went back and changed it on my copy, (I have a continuously changing version that I write in, but don't usually update changes to the web unless it's something really major).

Angie King – Hey new reviewer! Glad you liked it! And don't worry; I plan to finish this story to the very end!

And now, our feature presentation!

* * *

A voice was calling to her. It was soft, far away. She didn't want it to disturb her sleep. "Leave me alone," she mumbled, rolling over.

Her cheek brushed against a cold stone floor instead of the cozy sheets she had been laying on a moment before. Opening her eyes in surprise, the girl slowly sat up and stared about.

She was sitting in the middle of a dank, dark hallway. Scattered torches cast off an oily glow, giving the stone maze just enough light by which to see her gray surroundings. There was a steady _drip, drip, drip_ of water off in some corridor to her right and she could have sworn she heard a rat scurrying around.

The girl got to her feet and began wandering warily about in the endless labyrinth of passageways. Then she heard it again. "Leave me alone!" she called out into the darkness, dismayed by the shrill echoing of her tone.

But it persisted, faint and almost inaudible. "Allie! Allie!"

The girl recognized the voice and felt a swell of fear rise inside her chest. Why were they still looking for her? It had been almost seven months now. When would those crazy_ freaks_ give up?

She knew that at least they still hadn't discovered her whereabouts yet. Her feet began carrying her. _Run_. That was all she could think to do. Some way, somehow, she had to stay at least one step ahead of her pursuers. That was how she had escaped them for so long.

The voice grew louder. They were gaining on her. "Allie! Allie!" Soon they would find her. They were almost on top of her now!

* * *

Nikki was awakened by a noise in the room next to hers. She scrambled out of her bed and tiptoed across the floor. Putting her ear against the wall, she realized that the racket was coming from Allie's room. Puzzled, Nikki took a deep breath and plunged through.

Allie was thrashing about wildly on her bed, moaning, her face etched with sheer terror. Nikki crept forward fearfully, hissing, "Allie! Allie, wake up!"

She reached the bed and attempted to wake the frenzied girl.

* * *

"What _is_ that?" Jake mumbled sleepily. He rolled over; right off the bed, crashed loudly onto the floor, and was instantly wide awake. Jumping quickly to his feet, he remained still for a moment, in order to make out where the sounds were coming from.

Then he slipped out through his door silently and into the hallway.

* * *

Her bare feet slapped against the damp floor, legs pushing to their max. Suddenly she tripped and fell, sliding a good few feet. They wouldn't get her without a fight. The girl rolled over and grabbed tightly onto the arms of the person behind her.

Looking into her face was like trying to see your reflection in a pool of murky water. Screaming, she threw her backwards with violent force.

"GO AWAY!"

* * *

Nikki saw the wall coming at her from behind with that weird sense as though she had eyes in the back of her head. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt herself ghost through it - then through something else she hadn't expected. Startled, Nikki stopped ghosting and hit the floor, rolling gracefully back into a sitting position.

Jake was standing in front of her, looking stunned. His back was to her, but she could tell he was examining his blue arms. Nikki felt sick. She'd ghosted through him, not exactly the way to impress some one. Why, oh, why was he not turning around to look at her? Was he angry? Why on earth did she even care so much in the first place?

At last, Jake faced her, and he didn't seem any worse for the wear. "Are you okay? What happened?" he asked with concern.

Nikki didn't respond. He was standing in front of her, still glowing a brilliant blue, and now he was asking what happened. "I—I ghosted through you!" she finally burst out.

"Oh, so that's what you call it," Jake said vaguely, glancing at his arm again. He reached forward, grasped her hand firmly and hauled her to her feet.

Nikki tottered slightly. "I don't really know what happened," she said breathlessly, holding her head with the other hand.

They both turned to see Allie emerge from the room, her face white and looking extremely spooked. Odrade staggered sleepily from his own bedroom and even Thorn irritably poked her head out from her door. C-Cat materialized nearby, but nobody really seemed to notice. They were too busy trying to figure out Jake's illuminated body.

"What was _that_ all about?" Thorn demanded eventually, tearing her gaze away from Jake and turning it accusingly toward Allie.

Everyone stared at Allie silently, awaiting an explanation. She looked around at all their faces, freezing when she came to Nikki and Jake. Nikki suddenly became aware that Jake was still holding her hand.

She quickly pulled it away and began pretending to finger-comb her hair. Jake realized what had happened and shot Nikki a nervous look. Nikki saw rage momentarily sear across Allie's face, but her countenance instantly resumed an unreadable state.

"I had a bad dream," Allie said simply. Then she spun on her heel, stomped back into her bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.

Nobody spoke for a minute. Finally, Jake walked over to the wall to inspect the bright blue glow Nikki had left in her wake. "This is pretty cool," he murmured softly, poking it, appearing rather clueless of what was obviously going through his girlfriend's head.

He let out a cry of surprise when his finger went through wall and jerked it back out again. "What the - !"

"I guess I forgot to tell you guys about that," Nikki said nervously, stepping forward. "My powers kind of involve me glowing blue and – "

"I knew you could 'ghost' through stuff, but I never thought anybody else could go through the glow too!" Jake interrupted excitedly.

Nikki scuffed her foot in the carpet, embarrassed at all the eyes on her. "Yeah, well, I didn't actually know until just now either."

Jake and C-Cat laughed; the younger boy's high-pitched giggle grated slightly on Nikki's nerves. Thorn rolled her eyes and closed her door, and Odrade threw Allie's room one last concerned glance before heading back to his own bed.

C-Cat chortled again. He seemed very happy to have a legitimate excuse for being awake at four in the morning, though with that creepy smile, he always seemed happy.

"So tell us what happened," Jake said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his pale blue arms over his chest. Nikki noticed he was keeping a safe distance from the fading silhouette.

She grimaced slightly. "I tried to wake her up because I thought she was having a nightmare or something. But I guess she caught me off guard because I was still half asleep."

She saw Jake's eyes flicker toward the now fainter blue glow. "Then Allie started hollering and threw me into the wall," she finished lamely.

"You mean _through_ the wall," corrected Jake. He was regarding her very seriously. "That's some freaky power you've got there, Nikki."

Remembering her other hidden talents, Nikki nodded and smiled. _You have no idea._

* * *

The next morning Allie was in a better mood. Apparently, Jake had made a wise move and taken her down to the café to get a coffee with him. She returned looking much happier.

"So how did you get your powers anyway, Nikki?" Jake asked as he and Allie rejoined the group sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. Allie was still giving Nikki a bit of the cold shoulder.

"Well…" Nikki hesitated for a moment, but decided she had nothing to lose by telling them. "I was fooling around in the chemistry room and got some blue goop in a cut. Then, all of a sudden, I fall through the floor! And my life hasn't been the same since," she said, grinning broadly.

Odrade laughed. "I'll bet your chemistry teacher had something to say about that."

"Nah, I don't think Dr. Camdon has any idea it was me," Nikki said, shaking her head.

She was interrupted by Allie choking on her cereal. Jake patted her on the back as she coughed. "You okay, Allie?"

Thorn didn't pay the girl any attention. Instead, her gaze was focused steadily on Nikki. "Andrew Camdon, huh?" she said in a pathetic attempt at being casual.

Nikki nodded, but felt her face wrinkling itself up into a slight frown. "Yeah, that's him. Why?"

"Nothing." Thorn got up abruptly. "Well, it was nice chatting with you, Nikki, but I must be going. See you all later," she called, tossing the last of her toast in the trash as she strode swiftly out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, they heard the upstairsdoor close.

"What was that all about?" said Nikki, staring about in confusion.

Jake shrugged.

Suddenly, but almost predictably, C-Cat burst into a fit of hysterical giggles. Nikki rolled her eyes and resumed picking the seeds out of her bagel, but Allie shot him a death glare.

With a swift motion that the guffawing boy didn't catch, she shot out her hand, briefly touching the very edge of his cereal bowl.

A moment later, C-Cat let out an angry yelp as he tried to wrench his spoon out of the crystallized milk.

"Do you like this one?" Allie asked, holding up a tiny crystal doll that looked identical to Nikki, except for the fact that it was only about seven or eight inches tall. It had grown out of the palm of Allie's hand and begun revolving slowly so as to model different Fantasma costumes.

Nikki wrinkled her forehead skeptically. "I don't know…What color is the top?" Allie's crystals always had a slight pink tint to them; you could never tell what color she was planning.

"Black, of course, "Allie said, rolling her eyes.

"Nah, black's not really my color. Let's look at something else."

Allie sighed and the model's clothes melted into a completely different outfit. "Fine."

They were both sitting in the living room, trying to enjoy a rather dreary Saturday. Ignoring Nikki's protests that she couldn't accept anything from them, Odrade had insisted that Allie help her design a costume. Allie had condescendingly agreed.

"How about this?"

The doll was now showing off quite a bit of her midriff and together with the skirt; it looked like whoever had made it was running out of fabric. Nikki didn't even bother asking about the color.

"Um, Allie? I'm thinking this and winter in New York are definitely _not_ happening."

The other girl cocked her head at it as though this had never occurred to her. "Yeah, you know, you're probably right."

She changed it again, but Nikki turned it down, along with next ones for almost five minutes. "Not my style…Too weird…Blah…Nope…Yuck...Too plain…Allie, what did I tell you about skimpy costumes?"

Allie finally gave up in disgust. "Apparently none of my ideas are good enough for you," she said with a sniff, starting to get to her feet. "Maybe C-Cat will be able to come up with something better."

"No, wait!" Nikki said suddenly, staring at the doll in Allie's hand and looking positively delighted. "Make it purple and that one's perfect!"

Allie glanced down at it in surprise. "Well…I guess that one's passable. I'll tell Odrade what to get and it should be done by the end of next week."

"Here," she tossed the crystal to Nikki, "your own custom Barbie."

* * *

"Newspaper," Jake said boredly, tossing it deftly onto the couch as he walked into the living room that afternoon. Allie glanced at him before picking it up and turning it to the front page. Suddenly she let out a choked shriek and dropped the paper to the ground where it fluttered open.

Nikki leaped to her feet in surprise. Allie's face was white as chalk, her make-up standing out, giving her eye shadow an extremely overdone look. Her hands were shaking and she gaped dazedly in between them as though she thought she was still holding the paper. She kept murmuring, "No, no, no, no…"

Slowly Nikki walked over to the fallen newspaper and flipped the pages over to the front where she stared blankly at the headline.

_High School Teacher Murdered!_

A little concerned, like any reasonable person would be, but still unsure why this would have such a dramatic effect on Allie, she read a little further.

_Dr. Andrew Camdon was found dead early this morning in his classroom by a janitor from a gunshot wound to the head. Investigators have yet to name suspects. The reason as to why the teacher was in the school last night is still unknown…_

Nikki stopped reading and turned to stare at Allie in horror. She hadn't thought about it a whole lot yet, but now, when the reality struck her so hard in the face, Nikki realized that her last chance for answers had died with that man.

* * *

Nikki lay sprawled on her bed and stared up at the canopy dejectedly. Everyone except Allie had left on a special "mission".

Of course, Odrade had refused to let her go along. "I want a definite answer before I start letting you go anywhere with them," he had said firmly.

So far, there hadn't been much opportunity to tell him. He had been upstairs all day and Nikki was forbidden to leave the basement. Everyone said she couldn't afford to be seen and that the police were probably searching for her right now. _And maybe someone else_, she thought dryly. At least she very nearly hoped so.

Something had been bothering her this whole time. Right now, as far as Nikki knew, no one else in the team had any idea about her other abilities. She was beginning to wonder if she ought to keep it that way. If anything, they could prove a valuable wild card to pull out in a tight spot.

Gradually, Nikki's thoughts returned to the newspaper article that morning. Who would want to kill a high school chemistry teacher? Unless maybe they had some idea of what he had made. But Nikki knew now that she would never get a chance to find out from him. It was a real pity, too.

Dr. Camdon had been her only way to find out exactly what had happened to her powers. She had already attributed the whole climbing on walls, weird precognition, and strength to having inherited them from her dad. They were all Spider-Man's powers, weren't they?

But that still didn't explain the blue glow or the fact that she was lacking certain web-shooting abilities.

Nikki sat up abruptly, an idea sparking in her head. She threw open the closet doors and began rummaging around through piles of cloth and half-completed garments. Her search turned up a black mask, a black shirt and pants, and a pair of boots. It was time to go on a mission of her own.

* * *

A dark clad girl perched gracefully on the edge of a very cluttered desk, hunched over a small blue book. Her costume helped her blend in almost perfectly with her black surroundings. The room was dimly lit by a single small lamp she had dared to turn on, but that was all the light she needed.

_May 16,_

_It seems like only yesterday that Allison told me she was a mutant. As much as it killed me to send her to the institute, I knew it hurt her even more to lose all her friends at school and be miserable there. I am creating this in hope that it will weaken her powers so she can live the ordinary life that she wants so badly._

Nikki flipped forward a few pages until she again found reference to the mysterious chemical. She thought it interesting that Dr. Camdon never once mentioned a name for it.

_May 19,_

_I have made certain that it will only affect mutants. Normal humans will have no reaction to it. The one thing that worries me is that it may have other side effects, not just the weakening of abilities. Is it possible that it could create new powers for mutants? I hope not. Allison darling, this has to work._

The masked girl stopped reading abruptly and looked up, trying to think through what she had just read. It only affected mutants? But how was that possible? She hadn't been a mutant until this happened. Or had she? A few pages later, Nikki recognized the fateful date etched so solidly in her memory.

_May 23,_

_Something has happened! I was working on it early this morning and left for only an hour. When I came back, the test tube was almost completely empty! Some one must have taken some of it. But who?_

"I have a pretty good idea," Nikki murmured wryly as she started to replace the book onto the shelf. Suddenly something inside her brain screamed, _MOVE!_

Obediently, Nikki dropped the book as though it had burned her and jerked to one side, feeling wind on the side of her face as something whizzed past. She turned and stared in shock at the sharp transparent object that had imbedded itself in the wall behind her, still quivering.

Spinning around, she found herself face to face with none other than Krystelle. Allie was in her costume, but there was no mistaking the hatred in those eyes behind the mask. Nikki noticed more shards of crystal glittering wickedly in the girl's hands.

"You tried to kill me!" Nikki said, horrified.

Krystelle strode forward, radiating cool confidence. Nikki once again found herself admiring another one of the girl's traits that seemed to come so naturally.

"Not really," said Krystelle coldly, advancing and clinking the crystal knives in her hands. "If I'd wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be talking to me right now."

Warning bells were going off in Nikki's head. She edged backward, trying to appear unconcerned. A memory rose unbidden in her mind.

Spider-Man.

_Daddy's not going to save you this time, Nikki. You're going to have to get out of this by yourself. Spider-Man was always just a big talker anyway_, she thought with a slight sneer. Then a light bulb went on in her head. _That's it!_

Nikki folded her arms casually. "All dressed up and no place to go, huh, Kryssie?" She could see Krystelle's cold eyes narrow for a moment. Then she became calm again.

"It's not really like _you_ would actually know, judging by your own fashion sense," she replied with a smile.

_Ouch._ Nikki shrugged, carefully controlling her expressions. "Well, you see, I was lacking in the _designer_ department. Mine seems to think that the world revolves around the date for her next pity party."

That did it. Nikki suddenly found herself twisting to the left, right, up, down, and in ways she didn't think the human body was capable of. Knives continued speeding through the air from all directions.

Krystelle was yelling something, but Nikki was too busy trying to concentrate on the danger warnings in her head to care.

"YOU - TAKE - MY - PLACE!" Krystelle screamed, throwing a razor-sharp blade with each word.

Vaguely, Nikki wondered what she meant by that.

"YOU – TRY – TO - STEAL - MY - BOYFRIEND!"

Nikki didn't bother to cut in and say that that wasn't true at all. She was a little too busy avoiding the flying crystals.

"AND - THEN - YOU - COME - IN - HERE - AND - START - READING - MY - DEAD - FATHER'S - JOURNAL!"

The last dagger was thrown so fast and Nikki was so tired that she didn't have time to dodge it. But she didn't even try. Instead, she let it fly straight through her throat.

Allie stopped and stared in shock at Nikki who hadn't even flinched.

Before Allie had a chance to realize what had happened and get angry again, a loud voice on megaphone made them both jump.

"Come out of the building with your hands up! We've got the place surrounded."

The two girls gawked at each other in horror. Krystelle ran to the window and peered out at the dark street below them. She seemed to have forgotten their fight almost instantly, but Nikki hadn't. She hung back, dropping off of the desk and watching from a safe distance.

Krystelle was obviously frightened. "I've never gotten caught before," she whimpered miserably.

She whirled around and glowered at Nikki. "This is all your fault! If you hadn't come in here, I wouldn't have had to fight you and no one would have heard!"

Nikki didn't try to question her logic.

"You'll be in big trouble when they catch you too!" Krystelle continued. "You may have never stolen anything before, but even if you do get away, they'll know you're still around." She lowered her voice severely. "You're a runaway."

Something inside Nikki twisted awkwardly. She recognized it as fear. She'd felt too much of that in the past few days not to know what it was.

Still, she remained motionless until Krystelle returned to the window. Then Nikki began backing away. All she had to do was ghost through an outside wall and she was free. Finally her fingers met the cold concrete behind her. They began to let off a pale blue light…

"I hope you aren't planning on escaping and leaving me to get caught."

Nikki froze. What was this girl talking about? Slowly, she turned around.

Allie was standing beside the window and smiling confidently. "I heard what Jake said to you last night. If you escape using your powers, I will too."

She was trapped. If she stayed, the police would probably catch her, or at least report that she was still alive and her dad would be out on her trail again. And if she left, Krystelle would get away too.

Nikki's eyes strayed to the dark window nervously. The megaphone voice sounded again. She bit her lip.

Krystelle shook her head scornfully. "Stalemate."


	11. Her Father's Murderer

Guess I should give a brief intro since I always do. This one was a long time being thought up, and written in a very short period of time. And if your wondering about the chapter title, you'll just have to read and find out!

giveGodtheglory – Yeah, Tokoyo's awesome. She's done a really great job. I just hope she doesn't abandon her Spider-girl story.

Racetrack's Goil – Thank you! And don't worry, I didn't think anything of your nickname. I'm glad you like Allie. (Author Hint: I have another little family twist to throw in for her…)

Angie King – Thanks!

ash the dragon – I think somebody else commented on the Spanish name. The idea was kind of random, but I like it! And about Peter, the important thing to remember is that this story is written from Nikki's POV. Her view of her dad at this point is a little skewed, so the audience isn't getting the whole picture right now. And, also, he's just my interpretation.

Rainbow Dancer – Thank you very much! I'm glad you could finally review!

Moonjava – Thanks. Yeah, there are a lot of Spidey's family stories out there. I think this one has a rather different spin.

Thank you so much to Tokoyo for beta-ing this chapter!

* * *

Something shattered on a floor below the two girls with a terrific crash. "What the - ?!" a male voice hollered.

Nikki instinctively dropped low to the floor, feeling the blood pounding deafeningly in her ears as adrenaline raced through her body. Something whizzed over her head.

Glancing toward the doorway, she saw shattered crystals imbedded in and around the wooden frame, sending small dots of moonlight into an eerie dance along the walls. Nikki twisted around in the opposite direction. For a split second, her eyes met Krystelle's.

Downstairs, there was a dull thud that sounded sickeningly like a body crashing into the wall. People started shouting. They both scrambled to their feet, shooting terrified glances at the closed door and the window.

"Not really going for the stealth approach, are they?" Nikki said to Krystelle with a smirk. Krystelle gave her a look that bordered on exasperation.

"Spider-Man! What are _you_ doing here?"

Another smashing noise echoed through the empty school.

Nikki's eyes widened. Her next words stuck somewhere in the middle of her throat and were forgotten. Licking her dry lips distractedly, Nikki's eyes began searching frantically for an escape. All she could think about was getting out of there.

Krystelle had cracked the door and was peering carefully around it. She seemed completely unaware of Nikki's sudden fright.

"I think most of them are still downstairs," she hissed over her shoulder. "Let's go before they get up here."

Nikki didn't hear her. Her mind was a blur of memories, painful and wonderful, all spinning through her head so fast she could barely see. It was as though her life was truly flashing before her eyes.

"Nikki?" Krystelle turned around. She watched the other girl pressing her hand hard against the wall like she was about to ghost through it but was unable to. "You okay?" she said curiously and took a few steps away from the door toward Nikki.

Shaking her head to clear it, Nikki blinked and nodded mutely.

They both heard a whistling sound as a tiny object came shooting through the partially open door. Krystelle screamed and leaped back in surprise. Nikki winced, letting out a quick breath of air as the dart pierced her back.

"I've got her!" shouted a man in the hall, his voice cracking slightly with excitement.

Nikki spun around, eyes blazing. One hand fumbled across her back in a fruitless search for the tiny needled object while the other curled into a taut ball. Krystelle stared at her in horror, too stunned to move.

The man looked more like a member of SWAT to Nikki than a policeman - an awfully fuzzy one. Her vision swam. Closing her eyes, she staggered drunkenly. Everything was becoming very blurry very fast.

The man clutched his gun tightly as though afraid he'd have to use it again, but Nikki knew that there would be no need for a second shot. The drug was working quickly. The scuffle downstairs continued.

"Come on, I've got her!" the nervous man called out again to his comrades, looking dismayed that no one was responding. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and eyed Krystelle apprehensively.

Footsteps sounded further down the hall. Heartened, the man waved his gun intimidatingly at Krystelle. "You too. Put your hands up."

"No," she whispered softly, still in shock.

"What did you say?" he asked, a little less firmly. He risked a glance to his right, peering into the darkness for some sign of reinforcement.

A battle was being fought inside Nikki. She could feel her body struggling furiously to remain conscious, but the darkness of the room was getting to her, draining away her will to fight bit by painful bit.

At last she gave up and her eyes rolled back. She pitched forward, landing facedown onto the floor, barely breaking her fall with one arm.

Krystelle and the man with the gun both jumped. Nikki's hand landed on the tip of Krystelle's boot. She started to pull away, repulsed by the unconscious girl's pale fingertips that looked dead in the moonlight.

"Hey!" the man yelled.

Krystelle instantly forgot about Nikki and stared into the hallway in fascination.

A black outfitted assailant had attacked the two girls' captor and was trying to wrestle the gun from his hands. Thin, silver, streaks slithered snake-like out of the masked attacker's gloved hands, wrapping themselves around the gun. In fright, the man's finger gave the trigger a light tug.

Another dart blasted out of the small gun, hurtling straight at its bewildered target.

Krystelle shrieked as the tiny poison arrow drove itself mercilessly into her shoulder…

* * *

Nikki awoke with a start. Some one was laughing loudly in her ear. She rolled over just in time to see a mop of golden brown hair vanish.

"C-Cat!"

Odrade marched in, glaring around in annoyance. He finally shrugged and started to leave, but stopped when he saw that she was awake. Giving her a concerned look, he sat down in a chair beside her bed.

"I'm sorry. Did he wake you?"

Nikki tried to prop herself up on one elbow, but pain shot through her body almost immediately. She gasped and dropped back down, taking a minute to catch her breath. She was feeling a bit nauseous.

Veron eyed her with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…I'll be fine, "Nikki said, attempting to sound cheerful and aware that she was failing miserably at it.

He bit his lip. "It'll probably be awhile for those drugs wear off completely. Thorn assured us that it was just a tranquilizer dart."

Nikki nodded solemnly. She had a feeling that whatever she had been hit with was not just intended to knock her out. Why else wouldn't they have shot Allie right away too?

"Now," Odrade said, sitting back, "what were you doing at that school?"

"I…I was…" Nikki studied the ceiling hard for inspiration. She didn't really want to tell him. Jake saved her from responding.

"Hey, Odrade!" he said, sticking his head through the door. "Thorn's gonna order pizza. What kind do you want?"

Veron got up and made his way over to Jake, signaling to Nikki that the conversation was over for now. "Tell her pepperoni."

Jake mouthed something that looked like "pepperoni". Nikki heard his voice coming from the kitchen.

"How'd you do that?" she asked curiously.

Jake grinned with only partially hidden pride and sat down in the vacant chair.

"It's just part of my ability," he told her modestly. "I can project my voice wherever I want. Handy, huh?"

Nikki nodded, but her smile was a little pathetic. Jake sensed that something was wrong. "What's the matter?"

"Nikki," Odrade interrupted composedly, "I wanted to tell you that we should begin enrolling you in your new school."

"New school?" Nikki demanded incredulously. "I didn't even agree to – "

"But since the school year is almost over," he continued as though he hadn't heard her, "I was planning on getting you in with your finals scores and not starting you until September." He clapped his hands together. "So, what do you think, do A's and a couple B's sound good?"

Sitting up, Nikki stared at him indignantly. "That's cheating!"

Odrade shrugged.

"Hey, I think robbing banks is on a little higher scale," Jake said affably, giving her a gentle push.

Nikki winced and recoiled crossly. "Who said I wanted to rob banks? I haven't said that I'd take you up on your offer, you know." She folded her arms stubbornly. "And now I'm definitely having second thoughts."

Odrade's already forced smile faded. A vein in his forehead suddenly began to pulse very fast. Even his hair seemed to have lost some of its tidiness. He turned on his heel without a word and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"What--_ever_," Nikki muttered under her breath.

Jake looked briefly stunned. Slowly she rolled over to face him, leaning her chin on her arm. "What happened last night, Jake? Why were the police there?"

For a little while, he just stared at her. At last her question sank in, but it only made him appear even more dejected.

"I think that I ought to ask _you_ why you were there in the first place…but I already know the answer to that," he sighed gloomily.

Taken aback, Nikki narrowed her eyes. "How?"

"Allie told me," he said flatly.

"And how does Allie know?" Nikki pressed.

Jake cocked his head and considered her for a while. "You haven't figured that out by now?"

_Duh!_ Nikki felt like screaming. _Why else would I be asking you?_ But she kept her face impassive. "No, I haven't."

"Dr. Camdon is – was – Allie's dad." Jake stared at the carpet. "The reason she hates you so much is because of your abilities."

Nikki gave him a quizzical look.

He continued. "Somehow, you got the 'antidote' that was meant for her. Because of you, she'll never have a chance of getting rid of her powers."

"That's all it is?" Nikki said tossing her head carelessly and regretting the throb that began in it. "I figured as much. You'd think she'd be able to get over it. I mean, how hard can it be to keep the fact that she can make crystals a secret?"

Jake did not answer. He had become distant and thoughtful, scowling at a scar on his hand like he was courageously staring down the person who had given it to him. As Nikki watched silently, she realized that she had never noticed the many blotches of darkened skin on his strong arms. The muscles beneath those tiny blemishes had attracted far more of her attention.

Suddenly he sat up, yanked his sleeves down a little further, and thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "So you wanted me to tell you about last night?"

Nikki dropped her gaze and let her sore head sink back onto the bed. "Yeah." Her headache, momentarily dispelled by the excitement of learning about Allie's past had returned in even greater force. It was becoming painful to keep her eyes open.

"Well, when we got back from the bank and you were gone, we went looking for you." Jake hesitated and coughed lamely to cover up the empty gap that hung like a spider suspended in midair. "It's kinda weird, but Odrade seemed to have a pretty good idea of where you were."

He obviously expected a reaction from her, but Nikki was too sick from her tilting vision to have one. "Oh."

"Yeah, uh…" Jake could see that her eyes were beginning to roll back in her head. He hurriedly began again. "We spooked the police and – and they thought I was Spider-Man. Isn't that nuts, Nikki?" He grasped her hand. "Nikki?"

"Wha-?" she mumbled, slowly falling back on the pillows.

"Hey, Nikki, stay with me!" Jake cried frantically, his voice rising in pitch. Her face had turned an inhuman gray. He kept talking louder, desperately trying to make her listen to him, to stay awake. "And then Thorn tried to stop that guy from shooting Allie, but he did anyway."

Nikki's eyelids fluttered.

"But you saved her, Nikki!" Jake grabbed her shoulders, staring desperately into her clouding green eyes. "You ghosted that dart through her at the last minute!"

"Come on, Nikki," he whispered fervently.

His face was the last thing to fade from her sight. As everything slowly melted into darkness, Nikki could have sworn she saw a whirl of straight black hair sweep around the corner out of the room.

* * *

"If she doesn't want to, you can't really make her."

Nikki blinked and glanced at the clock. The burning red numbers read: 2:18 AM. The room was dark, but her improved vision was able to pick out the chair, the closet, her nightstand…

"You'd be surprised at how persuasive I can be."

Frowning, Nikki crawled off her bed and crept silently toward the wall. Her foot caught on a piece of fabric by the door, and she paused to examine it. As she scooped it up, a piece of paper fell to the floor.

Nikki held it up to the light coming through the crack on the side of her door. _thanks_ She flipped it over, but there was nothing else. Puzzled, Nikki dropped it and let the wad of fabric tumble open. It was her costume. Momentarily forgetting why she had gotten up in the first place, Nikki changed excitedly.

The one-piece outfit was a deep violet and very form-fitting. (_At least it's not spandex_, Nikki thought with a grimace.) The long sleeves draped rather elegantly off her shoulders, giving the impression of a straight neckline, though they were about the only part of her attire with any extra fabric.

Her pant legs each had a black streak running up the inside, adding to the entire costume which was lined with curling black velvet trim. She slipped on a pair of matching black and purple gloves, admiring the thin yet sturdy material. Last was the mask.

Nikki fingered it gently. Hadn't she been so determined not to follow in her father's footsteps? And here she was, suiting up so she could go parading around with the rest of the super-freak-show. "Funny how this kind of thing just seems inevitable for the Parker family."

Yanking it over her head, she found herself grateful that the designer had decided on a half-mask, rather than one that completely covered the wearer's face. It made breathing and talking much easier.

Nikki glanced over at the mirror on the dresser and studied her reflection in the faint light. A pair of green eyes stared back at her. They looked somehow prettier, more dangerous, and more self-assured encircled by the thin black loops that lined the violet mask.

She struck a pose, certain that even her own mother wouldn't be able to recognize her in this get-up. Feeling more confident than usual, Nikki tucked her tangled hair behind one ear and pressed her head against the door.

At least two people were talking; Jake and Odrade by the sound of it. Their voices suddenly dropped down to whispers. The wall was muffling the rest of their conversation.

Her curiosity got the better of her and Nikki ghosted carefully into the hallway. It was dark too, but a light in the kitchen let off a few stray beams. Nikki tiptoed to the end of the hall and peered around the corner.

Jake was standing against the counter with his arms crossed and eyeing the other man very skeptically, his back turned partially toward Nikki. Odrade sat at the table, one leg resting on another chair, and holding a cup of coffee long since gone cold.

Odrade blew a puff of imaginary steam off the top and took a quick sip. "I already told you that."

"Yeah, I know." Jake looked up at the ceiling. "I just think that it's a little too harsh to earn her trust. You've already got enough deaths on your hands to earn you a lifetime sentence."

Odrade laughed coldly. "More than you know, kid."

"You said Doc Camdon was the last one."

Nikki desperately wished she could see his face.

"The last one for Allie. I make no promises for this girl." Odrade said with finality. "You said yourself that you thought your little girlfriend might have had enough. We needed to make sure she had nowhere to go."

"You bet she doesn't. First her mom, then her dad," he murmured bitterly.

"It doesn't matter," Odrade said lightly with a wave of his free hand. "Anyway, Thorn should be there soon. By the time we make our final proposal, the girl won't have a choice." Odrade took another swig of something Nikki was beginning to think was not coffee.

"The girl has a name," Jake snarled, his fists clenching involuntarily.

Odrade swung his leg around and sat up, grinning. "Does she now? And why so concerned? I thought Camdon was your girlfriend."

"She is!" Jake said a little too quickly. "But…oh, forget it."

Still grinning broadly, Veron returned to his original reclining position and took a gulp from his mug.

Jake abruptly changed the subject. "You said her dad might be able to fight Thorn off. What if he can and the plan doesn't work?" he demanded pointedly.

"Thorn only needs to get one hostage." Odrade said callously. "But I wouldn't worry about that guy. Let's just say there was a bit of a _disturbance_ on his way home from work, and he's rather distracted at the moment."

"What kind of disturbance? What is it with this guy anyway?" Jake said curiously. "You keep talking like he's some tough macho wrestler or something."

Odrade did not answer him. He smacked his mug down on the table and got up. "Listen. You go to bed. We'll ask her when she wakes up in the morning. And remember," he added ominously, "don't mention any of this unless she says no."

Nodding, Jake turned to leave the kitchen.

Nikki yanked her head back, hoping desperately that he hadn't seen her. She flattened herself against the wall and tried to breathe normally. _He's gonna kill my family if I don't join them! And Dad's off playing hero somewhere else. He won't even know until they're dead!_

Choking back a sob, she tried to stay calm, to concentrate on the present. She needed to get back into her bedroom before they saw her and realized that she had been spying.

Nikki laid one hand against the wall and pushed. Nothing happened. Panicking, she pressed harder, then with both hands. They refused to even emit a hint of blue.

Suddenly, everything around her seemed to freeze. That weird sense had kicked in. She was running out of time.

Spinning around, Nikki saw Jake turn the corner. "Oh, no."

* * *

Jake trudged gloomily back to his room, his hands in his pockets. Another one? But Nikki was not going toagree willingly, he knew that much. Odrade didn't have a choice.

As he got about halfway down the hallway, the hair on the back of his neck began to prickle. He turned around. No one was there.

He glanced down the hallway again. No one. Still, he had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him.

Jake looked upward just in time to gawk at the two feet that slammed into his head. He hit the ground without a sound.

"Sorry," Nikki whispered to his unconscious form, "but you weren't exactly sticking up for me."

Knowing that Odrade would probably come into the hallway to investigate the thud, she launched herself up onto the ceiling again and crawled across to Allie's open door, chancing one last backward look. Jake hadn't stirred and the sounds from the kitchen remained normal.

She slid deftly into the room and behind the door where her glow could fade away, unnoticed. That is, granting that she could actually ghost.

Nikki bit her lip. It was time to do something right for once, time to save an innocent life and risk her own. A gentle azure light began to play around her fingertips. All at once it burst into its full blaze.

Nikki lingered for a few seconds, a blue flame shining brightly in the darkness, hesitant to go rushing back to the home she had so successfully escaped. A mental picture of Ben and May huddling together in fright while Thorn threatened their mother thrust her back into reality.

Clenching one fist determinedly, Nikki ghosted it forcefully into the ceiling and yanked herself through. Allie's room was once again plunged back into darkness.


	12. The Death of Innocents

Hey, I'm still alive! Lol. I know this chapter is a bit dark, but the next one should be much "lighter". (Or at least have some happy scenes.) Also, as a general note to everyone, I will be referring to characters in costume by their codenames and characters in normal clothes by their real names. And yay, I finally hit fifty reviews! Thanks so much everyone! I'd like to thank Tokoyo for once again proving to be an outstanding beta!

Moonjava – So glad you like it! Yeah, I know tons of "spider-kids" stories have come out recently after the latest movie, but I think we finally made it past the crazy rush. I hope this next chapter meets your expectations.

Angie King – Sorry about the imagery in the last chapter if it was kinda confusing. I try, but it's hard. And I hope this chapter answers at least some of your questions!

giveGodtheglory – Thank you! That's what I'm aiming for.

Trekkie in a TruckerHat – Thanks a lot! I like your stories too!

jjonahjameson – Wow, that was quite a compliment! Tell your husband thanks very much! And I think you may find this next chapter very interesting.

Crolynx – Oh, I wish I could tell you more about the prologue, but that would just ruin the whole plot. But what I _can_ tell you is that you may already be familiar with the caller…

Xaris of the Fish – Hmm, I wondered if you'd ever review. Thanks! Lol. It was definitely motivation to finish this.

And unto the story!

* * *

**The Death of Innocents**

"How do you spell 'invited'?" May hollered from her room.

Mary-Jane twisted slightly to stretch out her cramping back muscles. A piece of red hair slid from her ponytail into her eyes. With a sigh, she replaced it and bent down once more to finish picking up the colorful wooden blocks that littered the house.

"Mooooooom!" screamed May.

"I – N – V – " MJ started, but was interrupted by the shattering of her grandmother's fine hand painted vase.

Dropping her armload of toys, she whipped around the couch in time to spot her son standing on a chair beside the windowsill, his arms still outstretched for the shiny object that now lay on the floor in pieces.

"Ben!" she groaned.

Mary-Jane picked him up just as he began to wail loudly. Nicole walked out of the kitchen, drawn away from her incredibly boring homework by the noise. "What was that?"

She looked down at a shard of blue and yellow porcelain by her foot. "Oh."

"Mommy!" May yelled again. "How do you spell 'invited'?"

Mary-Jane winced. Ben was refusing to be quieted and had resorted to drooling all over his mother's shoulder while shrieking in her ear.

Nicole ignored her younger sister. "When's Dad gonna be home? I don't get this stupid science stuff."

"I don't know, honey," said Mary-Jane, running for a rag to wipe up her shirt. "He's out."

"Yeah, well, he's always out," scowled Nicole, crossing her arms and slumping onto the couch.

MJ returned with a soiled cloth and a thrashing toddler. "Don't talk about your father like that, Nicole." She scrubbed fruitlessly at her sleeve once more. "He's given up more for this family than you know. Your dad has a lot of responsibility."

"What about responsibility to his family?" She stormed up the steps to her room.

"Nicole!" said Mary-Jane, horrified. "Nicole Parker! You get back here this instant!"

Her daughter ignored her.

Mary-Jane wiped her forehead distractedly with the slimy rag, made a face, and sat down exhaustedly.

"HOW DO YOU SPELL – "

"Get a dictionary, May," MJ called wearily, popping a pacifier into Ben's mouth.

* * *

A silent shadow sprang from rooftop to rooftop of the sleeping neighborhood, against the backdrop of the still bright New York City. Had anyone been watching, they might have noted that the figure's arcs became more even, the landings became more controlled; the very movements themselves became increasingly fluid.

Fantasma landed in a crouch after performing a particularly graceful leap. So this was what it was like to throw yourself effortlessly into midair, speeding away from all of the problems behind you. The thrill of her powers had taken hold. It felt like nothing could catch her now.

As she started to jump to the next house, Fantasma felt her foot catch on something. Her ankle twisted awkwardly and she flopped clumsily forward. With a sort of half bounce, the purple clad girl toppled off the edge of the roof.

Fantasma squeezed her eyes shut for a minute. She hadn't exactly landed with the painful thud she'd expected, and yet she wasn't falling anymore either. Finally, she dared to take a quick glance around.

The world had turned sideways! Her shoulder was to the sky and the house next door had become her ceiling.

In shock, Fantasma nearly let go of the wall she was clinging to. When she realized what was going on, she dropped sheepishly to the ground, hoping no one had seen her.

"Graceful," she grumbled.

Fantasma straightened up, brushing imaginary dirt off of her costume in an attempt to regain some of her dignity. The noises of fighting attracted her attention and she limped around the side of the house.

Across the road, several larger, rundown, and uninhabitable-looking houses cast an ominous shadow over the otherwise quiet street. Rather brusque movements could just barely be made out in the alleyway between them.

Curiously, Fantasma scurried over the potholed pavement and toward the muffled grunts, doing her best to become nothing more than a flitting wraith. She pressed herself up against the front wall of one of the decrepit houses.

After a quick second to catch her breath and calm down, the masked girl strained her head around the corner and stared into the dark alley.

The sight that met her eyes was both gruesome and horrifying.

Two boys were deep into what appeared to be a brutal fight. Although they stumbled about in the shadows, it was clear that the larger one was winning. His victim, a kid no older than herself, was trying pitifully to fend off the smashing blows of his opponent.

"Stop! You win!" the badly beaten boy shouted, but his words were slurred as a stream of blood spilled out of his broken nose.

For a split second, Fantasma wondered why the younger boy didn't run for it. Then a particularly well aimed punch caught him off guard in the jaw and sent the kid hurtling in her direction.

Blood splattered on the ground about him as he landed in a crumpled heap, staining the dank alley an ugly red. For what seemed like an eternity, the boy didn't move. At last, he struggled into a sitting position, one leg twisted at a weird angle; it was broken.

His short, once blond hair had been matted in different directions by his attempts to quickly smear the blood off his face. He sat there, glaring scathingly at the other kid who hung back in the darkness of the alley.

"What, are ya afraid tuh come an' finish me off? 'Fraid that some punk might see ya wailin' on an innocent kid?" the boy taunted. "That'd ruin yer rep now, woodn'it?"

The bigger kid snorted in disbelief.

"Don' think I'm innocent, huh? Ya little – "

Fantasma winced at the expletive.

The boy continued, painfully raising a shaking arm to point accusingly at his attacker who had begun pacing, as though considering finishing what he had started.

Fantasma forced herself to remain motionless. She could feel the horror and righteous fury welling up inside her, begging to be let loose on this murderous creature who dared to call himself a human.

"I know yer true colors now. If ya let me go, I'll tell everybody that yer a murderer." The kid lifted his head defiantly. "Come on, now. Come an' get me, Spider-Man."

At this, the familiar red and blue vigilante shot out of the shadows, grabbing the kid by his shoulders and lifting him into the air. The boy refused to cry out as a pair of gloved hands slammed him into the wall, and then dropped him.

Fantasma pulled her head back in disgust, bile rising in her throat. She closed her eyes, unwilling to believe that Spider-Man – no, she reminded herself firmly, her _father_ – was going to kill a kid.

The sickening image of the unconscious boy, whose name she did not know, lying slumped against the bloodstained bricks spun dizzily in her mind's eye. But the worst part by far was seeing her father standing vindictively over him. Somehow, Fantasma knew with a cold certainty that that picture would haunt her for years to come.

As the numbness of shock began to seep away, the vague formation of a thought began to take place in her mind. At first, it seemed a purely impossible. But when it started to sink in, Fantasma felt a growing need to act on it.

Turning slightly to the side, she stared into the alley again, glaring at the man she knew as 'father'. Some way, somehow, she had to intervene and stop him.

Fantasma felt her mouth grow dry and her fingers clammy. She had to be going crazy! What was she going to do against the Amazing Spider-Man?

She didn't think he'd ever looked so tall before. The dim light that leaked into the alley outlined all his well-toned muscles, making him appear stronger and more powerful than ever. It occurred to her for the first time what petty thieves must see when Spider-Man crashed their party.

But no matter; that kid needed her help. The hero inside her stepped in, telling her to grit her teeth and just do it. It pushed aside the fact that the line of good and evil had just been smeared into uncertainty in her mind.

Taking a deep breath and clenching her fists, Fantasma braced herself for an ugly fight.

Suddenly a sharp crack rent the air, followed by a small shower of dust and pebbles. The already stagnant air gained the odor of burning bricks.

"I'd leave that kid alone if I were you, Bub," growled a gruff voice.

Fantasma waved the smoke away from her face and squinted in the darkness.

Her eyes briefly took in Spider-Man standing with his back to her, apparently stunned, a large hole in the wall not far to the side of his head. The object of his gaze was hard to miss.

In the back of the alley stood three people, all of them wearing costumes, but only one had bothered to cover up his eyes. The burly, black-haired man who had spoken was carrying six very long knives and eyeing Spider-Man wolfishly. He was flanked by another man wearing dark red goggles and an African-American woman with streaming white hair who was floating a foot or so off the ground.

True to his nature, Spider-Man recovered almost instantly and even made an attempt at his usual witty comments.

"Hey, long time no see, Wolvie." He gave a light wave that was met by icy stares from the trio. If it hadn't been for the mask, he might have completely disintegrated. As it was, Spider-Man looked pretty pathetic.

Fantasma glanced between him and the three unfamiliar people. He obviously knew them.

The woman spoke. Her voice was rich and strong, unwavering; the very essence of confidence. "What are you _doing_?"

Spider-Man glanced uncertainly at the senseless, bloodied boy.

"Yeah, that's what I'd like to know, Spider."

Fantasma watched the guy with dark glasses take a step forward. 'Wolvie' stuck out an arm to stop him, knives and all. Fantasma heard him mutter, "Watch it, Cyclops."

Cyclops shot him a reproachful look, but refrained.

Fantasma watched apprehensively as 'Wolvie' held out one of his hands in a harmless gesture, but the knives made it look rather unfriendly. Spider-Man began backing away cautiously.

All of the sudden, he dropped into a crouch and sprang onto the wall. By the time Cyclops had fired some sort of red laser out of his eyes, explaining the earlier blast, and 'Wolvie' had lunged for the red and blue superhero, Spider-Man was gone.

The whole world was spinning in dizzying circles. Fantasma stood, transfixed and frozen in an endless second of time. Nothing was real anymore.

_Spider-Man's a murderer_, Fantasma thought, devoid of all feeling. It felt like her very heart had been ripped from her chest and smashed up against the wall with that kid.

Suddenly, the reality of it all crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Her head was screaming. Her heart was pounding. Her breath was coming in short, uneven gasps.

_MY DAD'S A MURDERER!_

Fantasma flew up the wall and ran.

She ran over rooftops, leaping the spaces between houses and hurtling recklessly toward the city. Her legs no longer felt like they were connecting with anything solid. She was flying, flying away, and the world was only a comforting blur of dim light.

* * *

Fantasma crouched precariously on the edge of a railing. Her eyes stared unseeingly downward, not taking in the sickening height or the flashing lights of cars racing along below.

Her mind was working overtime, trying to figure everything out at once. Dr. Camdon was dead because of Odrade; yet Spider-Man had been trying to kill that boy. He probably had, for that matter. Who was the one in the right now? They were both responsible for the death of innocents.

And she was supposed to choose between the two?

Fantasma threw her head back, clenched her fists, and screamed, loud and long.

After her voice had turned to gravel, Fantasma bounced away into the darkness to find a new perch away from curious eyes.

She landed on a gargoyle. His name was Bruce, but she would not discover that until later.

Fantasma gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into Bruce's stone head. She knew what she had to do, but was feeling utterly terrified at the thought of doing it.

The wind had picked up. It pressed itself against a hunched figure, throwing her hair about her face and mixing small droplets in with the brown locks. A glow had begun to appear in the east.

As Fantasma felt the first rays of gold touch her icy cheek, she looked up. The sun was rising. It gave some much-needed confidence to the lonely girl.

She dried her tears on the back of her hand and slowly raised her head, her jaw set. She would go back to the underground basement and agree to join them. Her little brother and sister would not get hurt or involved. Maybe Allie and Jake could even be talked into leaving with her.

Her face dark, Fantasma pulled off a glove and stared expressionlessly at the half-moon shaped scar. She knew that she had made a mistake in ever leaving home, but it was clear to her that her problem would not be so easily remedied now. Unless she could undo the group from within, she'd have to worry about blackmail for the rest of her life. But it would take time. Time and willpower.

Fantasma tossed her head, loving the feel of her long tresses tumbling about in the wind. She smiled defiantly at the rosy horizon.

"Maybe I screwed up before, but I'm gonna fix it," she told it resolutely. "Whatever happens."

The young girl stood up and straightened her back, balancing easily on the stone and staring forward. The sun seemed to be leisurely illuminating the darkened metropolis at its own pace. Even the great New York City couldn't hurry it along.

Fantasma watched the shadows being cast back as the light crept steadily westward, turning the hopelessness of night into the glowing warmth of day.

Her spirits buoyed, she briefly saluted a few staring pedestrians before lunging away.

* * *

Cyclops stared intently into the dark sky where Spider-Man had disappeared only a moment before. His eyes traveled around the edge of the alley.

"Wolverine, do you understand what just happened?" The white-haired woman looked questioningly at him.

Wolverine grunted an indistinct reply and began sniffing. The other two remained silent but alert.

Abruptly, Wolverine stopped short and narrowed his eyes. "That's weird."

"What's weird?" asked the woman, watching the burly man closely.

Wolverine began stalking around, smelling the air like a dog. Catching an odd scent, his head turned quickly to the left.

"Hey, Storm," interrupted Cyclops.

"Yes?" She nodded at him, her attention still focused on Wolverine.

He pointed further down the alley.

"That kid's gone."


	13. One Thousand and Fifty Feet

I know this took forever, but I hope it was worth it. Hopefully, the last chapter didn't scare you all away. I promise that everything will make sense. Also, please read the notice at the end of my Author's Note. It's labeled quite clearly.And about Skylar, shereally has nothing to do with the story. She is an insert character from an RP and was put in for the amusement of my RP partner. But don't you dare steal her!

Trekkie in a TruckerHat – Actually, you won't understand until much later. But this chapter does add a little twist to that incident…

giveGodtheglory – Well, of all the things I was expecting to get accused of, Cyclops being out of character is the last one. Lol. Oh well. I hoped some one would like the Bruce mention. Thank you!

jjonahjameson – Hey, your review was nice. I was a little concerned about being beaten over the head for last chapter, but you didn't do that. Thanks! Hey, update your stories again soon, k?

Griselda Banks – Where do I begin? Lol. Yes, I think it's horrible how bad grammar has gotten. Most of my success is due to my beta, Tokoyo. I have gone over the first three chaps, but it takes a LONG time to reread and proof everything. I hoped it would be like a movie, because that's how I see it: watching this whole thing happen in my imagination and just writing it down for everyone. The "cellar door" thing made me laugh. It's kinda funny, but I like it. I'm pretty sure that Thorn originally was inspired by someone else, but she's changed so much that I can't remember who anymore. About swearing, I don't know if you ever read the replies I make to other people's reviews, but giveGodtheglory had also commented on that. I'll say it again: there will be NO swearing or sex in this story! My judge for how clean a story should be is to ask myself the question "How would I feel reading it to a kid? Would I get uncomfortable having to explain things?" I think more people should ask themselves that. Thank you so much and I eagerly look forward to working with you!

Moonjava – Hey, I'd say that the Spider-Man category is one of your usual haunts, huh? Nice to see that you enjoy my story. Thanks so much!

Muchas gracias toTokoyo, who, though a little late ( :D ), is an awesome beta!

PLEASE READ THIS! The first section here is a sort of a sub-chapter. It isn't really long enough to be a chapter in itself, but I wanted it in anyway. The much longer section is the actual "chapter" that took so long! Please review!

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Groak

Gerald Anderby shuffled nervously down the murky corridor. He walked with the gait of one who had vicious beasts at his heels and a dragon before him. His unfriendly escort, four faceless masked gunmen, shoved him along silently. The only sounds were the sharp clicks of the gunmen's boots and the unsteady rhythm of the frightened man's teeth chattering slightly.

Only a few years before, Gerald Anderby had fancied himself quite special. Now he felt nothing but small and miserably lost in this dank maze of catacombs - small and trapped.

At long last, the small party was ushered into an immense chamber, dimly lit, filled with great looming shadows. The small lamps that were placed sparsely around the room gave off only an oily glow that added to its gloomy and almost ethereal feel.

An old man sat slouched in a stone chair far at the end of the chamber. His laborious breathing sounded like it came from a throat long gone dry and never again to be soothed.

"You return, Anderby?" he rasped out.

Gerald Anderby was given a sudden push forward, landing ungracefully on one knee before him. He ducked his head quickly. "Yes, sir."

The aged man did not waste energy on any other formalities. He had not gained his wealth and fame from spending anything recklessly.

His name was Groak, given to him by one of his followers for his enormous, voracious black eyes. Groak had liked the sound of it and kept it, his true name long since faded from memory.

"Anderby," Groak croaked at the quaking man, "you know you have failed your task. I ought to do away with you."

The man could feel his body convulsing in spasmodic shivers of pure terror, the awareness of how near he stood before death. He did not dare speak.

Groak glared at Gerald Anderby, leaning his frail old head on one hand. "But I know you, Anderby. Even now, you have devised some way to save your hide and wish to tell it to me." He said this last part with a bit of a tired sigh, as though the whole situation was routine.

Gerald Anderby bobbed his head frantically. "Yes, sir. Yes, of course I have, sir."

The ancient man on his ancient throne gave a weary nod and slouched back even more into his seat, if that was possible. "Proceed."

"Well, sir, if I could just get some mutants…"

Groak jerked involuntarily at the word. "_What?_" he hissed, his voice dangerously low, his great black eyes narrowed to slits.

"Mutants, sir. Just think of what they could do." Anderby peeked upward, desperately trying to read the effect his proposal.

The old man sank back down again, looking tired and more prehistoric than ever. Encouraged by the fact that Groak hadn't ordered any of the guards to blast his brains out and be rid of him once and for all, Gerald Anderby continued more confidently.

"I know where to get them too, sir. In fact, I already have acquired the service of two young men and there's always more abandoned youngsters who'll do anything for a home and food."

He had conveniently failed to mention that one of his enlistments was no more than eight years old. He could only pray that Groak couldn't read minds.

For a long time, long enough to make him nervously shift his position several times, Groak said nothing. Finally: "Done."

A young woman moved fluidly backward and tried to become one with the wall, invisible and silent. She had watched the entire scene unfold from her place in the hallway.

No one had seen her; she would be dead if they had. Maybe she was just overly paranoid, but she was sure one of the guards had been glancing in her direction more than was natural.

When the she decided that she had heard enough, the woman turned and vanished into the darkness of the tunnels.

Neither Groak nor Gerald Anderby would ever know their secret plans had just found their way into the hands of a government spy.

* * *

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* * *

**

One Thousand and Fifty Feet

Nikki shuffled along through the swarming school hallways, eyes glued to the floor. Without looking up, she stopped suddenly, leaned to the right to narrowly evade a swinging backpack, and lurched forward again to avoid a pileup behind her.

Her first day at the high school had been mostly uneventful, an improvement on last year. Last year, Nikki had made the fatal error of trying to be friendly to the boy who had the locker next to hers. This was highly unfortunate, as he had just had his football hopes crushed that morning when the coach caught him vandalizing school property.

Between standing up beneath locker doors that had been mysteriously opened and picking glue out of her lock, their relationship hadn't improved much that year.

But that was back when she was normal. Things were different now.

Nikki slunk into chemistry class, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and slid into the nearest desk. A moment later: "What do _you_ think _you're_ doin'?"

"I'm sitting down," she mumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

The bulky boy who stood beside the desk, glowering at her, scoffed stupidly. He had scruffy blonde hair that he brushed out of his eyes every several seconds in what he obviously considered a very smooth manner. His gaze revealed that he was plainly used to being obeyed without question. Something about him stirred a faded memory in the back of her mind. Had she seen him before?

The boy clearly didn't recognize her. "Yeah, right. This is _my_ desk!" He pointed to a carving in the dirty wood. "Can't you read?"

Nikki stared at the name, then straight back up at Warren, which was what the roughly hewn letters read.

"Yes, I can. Thank you very much. It's a pity you can't, though. Looks like you wandered into the wrong class. Special Needs is at the other end of the building." She had to wait a few seconds for her insult to sink in.

The swifter members of Warren's posse smelled a fight and moved in closer, hooting excitedly.

Warren growled as it finally dawned on him that he had just been insulted. "Move it, loser. I ain't got time for this."

"Judging by the fact that you're taking this class again, I'd say you probably do."

Allie ducked in between them. "Chill, Warren," she told the seething junior.

He pushed her aside roughly. "No way. I'm gonna teach this smart mouth what we do to kids like her." He eyed Nikki nastily. She glared bravely back up at him.

"Oh, come _on_." Allie rolled her eyes and gave Nikki's arm a tug. "Just forget about it. This is stupid."

"Warren, what's going on?"

Nikki saw Warren groan inwardly as the teacher's voice met their ears. He nudged his comrades and the group dispersed to their seats.

A minute later, the teacher slowly walked out of the storage room trying to balance an armful of beakers, completely oblivious to recent events.

Jake caught Nikki's eye and winked, an expression on his face that clearly said: _Not bad, huh?_

Yanking a notebook out of her backpack, she folded it open to the first page and fumbled around for a pencil. Maybe her sophomore year wouldn't be that bad after all.

* * *

The three sophomores walked back to the hideout together. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining warmly. Nikki thought the weather outside couldn't have been any finer for a nice long stroll through the city. 

As they approached a coffee shop, Jake, already a hopeless addict, grabbed an arm on either side of him and pulled Allie and Nikki inside. The two girls laughed uproariously.

"Ooh," giggled Allie, doing her best zombie imitation. "Jake feels strangely drawn."

The trio chirped merrily about their first day while Jake paid for two coffees and one hot chocolate.

"Nikki," said Jake, taking a sip as they stepped out of the shop. "You work for Odrade. You're gonna have to start drinking this stuff sooner or later."

"Sue me," she said with pretend defiance and took a big gulp of her cocoa.

After a few minutes of walking along the crowded sidewalks, Nikki lagged behind Jake and Allie. She felt a bit left out as she watched the couple laughing and holding hands. Gradually her thoughts began to drift.

Something had been bothering her for a while now. That night three months ago was still as clear in her mind as if it had been yesterday. Besides the obvious, certain events had haunted her ruthlessly ever since.

The incident in the hallway was one of them. Flipping her hand over, Nikki studied that still very prominent half-moon scar.

Why hadn't she been able to ghost through the wall when Jake was about to find her? She had, so far, attributed this to sheer panic and lack of practice. But her spider-like abilities had worked just fine. Could there have been another reason?

Nikki remembered clobbering Jake and grinned. When she had returned later that evening, he was no longer lying in a heap in the hallway. And neither of them said anything about it the next morning. In fact, now that she thought about it, they had never discussed it all.

Odrade was thrilled when she announced her decision. Almost instantly he began scurrying busily around the kitchen, gathering up multiple files and going on about the technicalities: how much she would be paid (no small sum, to be sure), school registration, deleting her from government and state records (Jake said the man had almost inhuman hacking skills), and how long it would probably be before she had any real field experience.

He said nothing about Thorn or her mission.

"Hey, Nikki!"

"Huh?" she gasped, snapping out of her reverie.

Jake clucked his tongue sagely. "Needs more caffeine."

Rolling her eyes, Nikki feigned throwing her empty cup at him. He ducked, chuckling a bit like C-Cat. Except that C-Cat didn't chuckle. He giggled; an insane sort of giggle.

"What?" she demanded with her hands on her hips.

"I said, for the thousandth time, _do you want to come to my soccer game tonight?_" He enunciated the question clearly and mockingly. Allie laughed.

"_All right, I will come to your soccer game tonight_," Nikki carefully pronounced back to him.

"Good. Now that we've got that bit of rocket science figured out, let's go home." And Allie led the way, dragging Jake by the arm, her nose in the air, while he followed meekly behind with a sheepish grin on his face.

* * *

"WE'RE HOME!" Nikki called out loudly, stepping easily through the closed door as Allie and Jake ambled down the wooden steps behind her. She had become quite talented of late; doors were none existent as far as she was concerned, at least when there weren't any normal people around. 

"Good," grunted Odrade from behind a newspaper. He didn't look up.

They heard a dull _thunk_ as someone ran into the door. Nikki spun around, a bit taken aback.

The door opened and Jake stumbled in, looking a little dazed and extremely annoyed. It wasn't the first time he had done this. He was taller than Nikki, and, consequently, the sort of glowing residue she always left behind was never quite high enough for him to walk through behind her without stooping slightly, and of course, he never remembered.

Allie was hunched over in muffled laughter. "Smooth, Jake, real smooth," she sniggered.

As Nikki headed to her room to ditch her backpack and freshen up, she couldn't help thinking how much different this day would have been with her family.

Here, there was no Mary-Jane greeting them warmly as they walked in the door. She always had a batch of freshly baked cookies and the favorite parental question: "How was your day today?" followed by a chorus of "Fine."

Since Allie had undoubtedly sealed herself up inside the bathroom for at least two hours while she completely redid her hair and makeup, Nikki decided to take up one of her favorite pastimes again: baking.

About twenty minutes later, the sounds of the never-before-used mixer quickly drew admirers.

"Ooh, what are you making, Nikki?" Allie asked as she swept in, automatically dodging C-Cat as he appeared in front of her.

"A cake for after the game," Nikki said rather proudly. She rooted around through the refrigerator, shoving aside mounds of pop cans and some doggie bags from the nearby Chinese restaurant. "Don't you guys have any milk?"

Allie gave C-Cat a light smack as he made to stick his finger in the bowl. "Raw eggs," she warned him in her best stern motherly voice. He gave her a nasty grin, which was his way of scowling, and vanished. Allie rolled her eyes and inspected the batter. "Chocolate! Nikki, you're gonna be the death of us!"

"Yeah, Nik. It'll ruin my perfect figure," said Jake in a flawless mimicry of Allie as he meandered in.

"Oh shut it, Jake."

"Hey, you sure that thing works?" He pointed dubiously at the oven.

Nikki brought her head back out of the fridge and looked at the stove top, noting how sparklingly clean it was. "I think so. Why wouldn't it?"

Jake shrugged and Allie answered for him. "Because the last time it was used was for frozen pizza and that was about four months ago."

C-Cat began giggling hysterically from the other side of the kitchen.

"What?" said Nikki, eyeing the boy suspiciously, suspecting sabotage of her masterpiece.

"Oh," said Jake, reminiscing. "It's probably 'cause we burned that pizza."

Nikki stared at him in amazement. "You burned frozen pizza?"

"Don't look at me," he said, throwing up his hands defensively. "She did it."

"Who's surprised?" Allie cried in protest. "I burn macaroni and cheese for crying out loud!"

* * *

Down to the right side of the field. Now to the left. Oh, back to the right again. 

"Come _on_, guys!" Allie shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth. "You can do it!" She gave Nikki a patronizing glare. "Why aren't you being supportive? This is your team too."

"Uh, right." Nikki let out a couple of halfhearted cheers and yawned. It was already third quarter and the opposing team was crushing them: 14 to 2. Ignoring the dirty sidelong looks Allie kept throwing her, she glanced boredly around the soccer field.

C-Cat was standing next to Allie. He had been enthusiastic through the first five goals. But after halftime, a sort of glazed look had come over his permanent smile.

The real interest of the game had been Thorn.

To Nikki's utter amazement, Thorn had not only shown up for Jake's game, but she had brought some one along with her. The two women were sitting in cloth fold-up chairs on the opposite side of the grassy field and chatting together amiably like old friends. Nikki had never seen Thorn chat.

Nikki had spent most of the game watching them. Not surprisingly, Thorn hadn't bothered to introduce her friend to anyone. But the trench coat-wearing, brunette girl seemed to have quite a bubbly attitude. She laughed and laughed every time Thorn made a joke, but wasn't ridiculously silly; she seemed to have a pretty level head on her shoulders.

Just then, an outraged howl from the crowd and an indignant cry from Allie yanked Nikki's attention back to the game.

The home team had surrounded someone who was lying on the ground in a heap. Squinting to try to make out a face between the moving legs, Nikki slowly rose to her feet.

The coach called them away and carefully helped the fallen player to his feet. It was Jake.

Jake slowly limped off the field, leaning heavily on his coach until he could be deposited onto the bench. Nikki turned to ask Allie what had happened but realized that she was gone.

Allie had practically flown to her boyfriend and was already crouched before him on the ground, conversing anxiously with another adult who was examining his leg. Nikki decided that the wound wasn't life-threatening and sank back down into her chair again, only the lightest bit of acridity biting at her thoughts.

A voice behind her made the girl jump. "Nikki, where's C-Cat?"

"Huh?" Nikki spun around and was clearly stunned to behold Thorn and her friend walking up. "He's right…" She trailed off. The grinning nine-year-old was nowhere to be seen.

Without a word, Thorn marched away.

"Heh, she gets a bit protective sometimes. Don't know why, though. That kid is _weird_," said Thorn's friend, not noticing the stare she was getting from Nikki. "Oh, by the way, my name's Skylar. Nice to meet you." Skylar held out a hand and smiled.

Nikki took it awkwardly. "I'm Nikki…How do you know Thorn?" she finally burst out.

Skylar laughed. She had a nice laugh, Nikki noted, friendly and jovial, the complete antithesis of Thorn.

"Well," Skylar began. "It's kind of a long story…" She suddenly froze, staring past Nikki to the soccer field. Nikki turned around and groaned.

C-Cat had appeared near the opposing team's goalie and was creeping up behind him, face shining with glee at his unsuspecting victim's misfortune.

The goalie was too concerned with the herd of soccer players thundering toward him. The little black and white ball looked to be pulling the swarm by a magnetic force, always keeping them close, but bouncing away again every time some one got close enough to touch it.

No one noticed the little boy by the goal post.

As he crept ever nearer, the awareness that some kid who was clearly not supposed to be on the field and was about to attack the goalie could be seen almost palpably as the audience finally began to point and shout.

Hayden, the goalie, knew his time had come. He had been waiting all season for a chance to make a dramatic save, a way to recover the miserable reputation he'd earned earlier by missing a horribly easy shot. The ball was flying toward him…he was going to do it…he was going…

Nikki watched helplessly from the sidelines as Hayden lunged determinedly for the ball and C-Cat dove after him. "No," she breathed.

A shred of silver sprouted out of the ground and wrapped itself like a rope around C-Cat's leg, yanking him downward and away from the triumphant, yet still oblivious, Hayden.

The boy's smile never vanished, but C-Cat did.

As soon as the thin shining thread found itself holding nothing, it went taut and slid back down the way it came.

Across the field, Nikki saw a glimmer of silver connecting the bottom of Thorn's boot to the ground as the spike was quickly reabsorbed. Then Thorn began to shove her way through the frantic crowd back to them. Chaos reigned.

"Let's go, you three," she said in a very final, don't-argue sort of way.

Slowly, Nikki and Allie started home, Jake suspended between them. Before they were lost to sight, Nikki strained her head around to see Thorn and Skylar one last time.

She was almost sure the flicker of movement on Skylar's face was a wink before a babbling crowd separated them and Nikki returned her attention to the difficult task of getting Jake home.

* * *

"I'm _fine!_" Jake growled dangerously from the couch, looking ready to punch a hole in the wall – if he could have walked over to it. 

"No, you aren't," said Odrade quite calmly. He handed Allie another ice pack and watched as she hesitantly replaced the one on Jake's leg. "And you're not going anywhere for at least a month. In which case," he gave Nikki a pointed look, "you will be taking his place. It's time you got out and started making it worth my while to pay you."

Nikki tried to return the amused grin he gave her, but couldn't ignore the plummeting feeling in her stomach. She wanted to scream: _I'd rather be at home than working for you if you offered me a million bucks!_ But she didn't. She had learned the very trying task of holding her tongue.

Instead she said innocently, disguising her disgust, "But I thought you guys hadn't been out on any missions for months." This was a lie. Nikki was well aware of the many comings and goings of the group that occurred regularly; she had been since the first night she arrived.

Odrade guffawed heartily and Allie gave a nervous sort of giggle. Or maybe that was C-Cat from behind her. It was hard to tell sometimes.

"You think that I'm paying them just to sit around all summer? No, I'm afraid they've been quite busy."

Allie's eyes traveled to Jake's, unbidden. Nikki could see something inquiring in her gaze. His look said simply: _no_.

Odrade didn't seem to notice, or care, Nikki thought. He proceeded to explain that next Tuesday, Thorn and Allie would take her out for a test run. "To see how well you handle dangerous situations-"

"We're going to the Empire State Building for a history class field trip on Wednesday," Allie cut in.

"So?" said Nikki.

"So we'll have to leave right afterward to get to where we need to go," Allie retorted.

Odrade rubbed his forehead jadedly. "Just bring your costumes along then. You can change."

* * *

"HEY!" Nikki leaped to her feet as a steaming bowl of soup was tipped off a tray into her lap. 

The tiny red-head who had dropped it gasped and started snatching up napkins, apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!" She looked almost frightened.

"Don't worry about it," Nikki muttered miserably, trying to reassure the poor little thing. She recognized the girl as being a part of a group of juniors from another school that were apparently on a similar field trip. "I've got another change of clothes in my backpack."

The girl bent down to wipe up the mess, waving Nikki away. "You go change. I'll clean up."

Nikki grabbed her backpack up off the floor, carrying it at arm's length, and slopped through the busy restaurant. People gave the soup-soaked girl a wide berth. Feeling extremely self-conscious, she hurried into the bathroom and locked herself in a stall.

"What a day," Nikki moaned as she struggled clumsily out of her dripping clothes. "It was supposed to be a fun field trip to the Empire State Building. And now I don't have anything to wear – ouch!" She rubbed the side of her head, giving the door a dirty look, while hopping unsteadily on one foot as she got her shoe off.

She pulled out her costume and wrinkled her nose. It was that or nothing. With a resigned sigh, Nikki got into it and put her heavy coat on over it, slipping her mask into her pocket.

By the time she caught up with her class, they were waiting impatiently for her by the door to the lobby of the Empire State Building. Allie shot her a funny look as they squeezed inside the elevator to the observatory. "Nice outfit," she whispered.

Nikki blushed. "Thanks," she said and pulled her coat tighter around herself. "Too bad Jake couldn't come."

Allie shook her head. "He hates heights. I think that sudden pain in his leg might have been a little convenient." The two girls grinned

"Um…Hey," said a timid voice. Turning around with some difficulty due to the cramped quarters, Nikki looked down to see the petite little red-head.

Twisting a strand of tomato-red hair nervously around one finger, the girl said, "My name's Claire. I'm so sorry about the soup. Good thing you had some more clothes, huh?"

"Yeah." She looked around awkwardly. "I'm Nikki."

Something akin to icy nails pierced everyone's ears at that moment and Nikki watched her classmates wince in pain as their ears popped. Oddly enough - but she was used to odd things by now - her ears seemed to adjust to the new pressure painlessly.

The elevator doors finally opened. The group quickly exited and dissolved, some pointing excitedly while others strolled around with disinterest. Nikki was about to follow Allie and her friends but noticed Claire wandering quietly off by herself outside.

She grabbed Allie's arm. "Let's go with her."

"Huh?" Allie motioned for their group of friends to wait and turned to see what Nikki was pointing at. Her expression turned sour. "Are you kidding? C'mon." She started in the opposite direction.

Nikki sprang in front of her, eyes blazing. "Why not?"

Allie stopped wrinkled her nose royally. "Because hanging around with _her_ would be the perfect way to ruin your reputation." She threw Claire's back a haughty glance before sidestepping Nikki and following her friends. Nikki felt caught in the middle. Her gaze jumped between the two several times until at last she gave a definitive nod.

"Claire, wait up!" she shouted, breaking into a jog.

Claire stopped and greeted her with a delighted look. "Hi," she said happily.

"Hey. Do you want to go outside?"

"Sure." She smiled, revealing a full set of braces.

That day marked the end of Nikki and Allie's blossoming friendship. The two girls became more of acquaintances than true friends and rarely spoke to each other in school. As Nikki turned away and marched determinedly outside with Claire, she walked away from her chance at popularity and status.

But somehow, it felt like the right thing to do.

"So how old are you?" asked Claire to break the silence as they stood on the balcony, staring mesmerized over the edge. The city looked so beautiful from their skyscraping vantage point.

"Sixteen," said Nikki, unable to hide the note of pride in her voice. "How 'bout you?"

Claire wrinkled her nose. "Fifteen and a half."

"Then why are you in-"

"Eleventh grade?" finished Claire. "Because they think I'm smart enough." She didn't appear the slightest bit cocky or pleased about it. She sounded annoyed.

"Oh," was all Nikki could think to say back.

"But in a couple of months, my boyfriend and I can be official. I'm allowed to group date when I'm sixteen." She showed off her braces again in another wide grin.

"That's cool," said Nikki. "So, uh, what's he like?"

Claire beamed. "Perfect, of course," she raved. Then, laughing, she added, "His name's Luke and he's seventeen. He's really nice."

"Is he cute?" Nikki asked, not in the least bit regretting her decision to ditch Allie's group.

Something of a shadow darted across Claire's cheery countenance. "Yeah. Yeah, he's cute," she said quickly and became jovial once again. "So where do you go to school?"

Nikki decided to let the abrupt change of subject pass. Before long, the two girls were absorbed in discussing actors, school, hobbies, and had exchanged enough information to keep in contact.

The Claire's teacher called her away suddenly and Nikki found herself standing alone. She turned her stare from the miniature cars and buses zooming around below to Warren and his gang. They were pushing each other around and laughing obnoxiously.

She was about to go back inside and see if Claire was done talking with the teacher when the boys' noise level increased suddenly. The crowd on the balcony had backed away from a fierce looking fight as security guards were alerted.

"You _moron_," Nikki murmured. "How dumb can ya be?" Feeling highly annoyed, she turned back to the street below.

_I wonder what it would be like to just hang there, hundreds of feet in the air._ This thought was inspired largely by the renowned antics of a certain masked hero, but Nikki would never have admitted that.

She slipped out of her coat, holding it up behind her and taking meticulous care to make sure that none of her exposed costume was visible to anyone. Her flexible arms carefully maneuvered the coat upward slightly to cover what she was doing from any onlookers.

Checking both sides twice, just to be absolutely sure no one was watching, Nikki clamped her hands tightly around two of the sturdy vertical bars that arced up in the air above her and pointed back toward the building. Then she eased herself gradually forward through the guard rails, until she was half suspended over Manhattan, still holding up the coat on the other side of the fence to conceal the glow.

It was the most stunning sight she'd ever seen – not the first time she'd ever looked down at the city – but the first time from 1,050 feet.

A gust of wind made her catch her breath as she felt her feet, which were still pressed very securely to the balcony, shift ever so slightly to the left. Gripping the poles more tightly, she made to ghost back through them.

At that moment, a terrific hoot rang out and Warren came staggering violently backwards toward the wall. Nikki's head whipped around in alarm. Her danger sense was screaming like siren.

Warren hurtled toward her, completely out of control. Even in slow motion, during those few pathetic moments, Nikki felt a sickening cloud of dread and helplessness descend on her as it had during the soccer game. She was trapped.

In one swift movement, she had let go of the pole on her left, relying entirely on her strength and sticking abilities to keep her up, and ripped her mask out of her coat pocket. As she struggled to jerk the pre-tied mask over her billowing hair with one hand, her spider powers suddenly gave out.

It was as though some one had turned them off with the flick of a switch. The singing buzz in her neck died instantly and Nikki felt her feet slip. Instinctively, she tried to swing around and cling to the pole on her right with both hands.

But her hands groped empty space. She stared in horror as a single pulse of brilliant blue light encased her body, ghosting her fingers through the rails. At the same time that the light vanished, the two-hundred pound football player backed through the glowing guard rails, colliding with her full force.

Fingers moist with sweat, Nikki lost her grip and pitched forward. Warren's screams, three octaves too high, echoed dimly somewhere in the distance as he tumbled downward too. Everything was in a haze as the ground sprang toward her like a leopard after its prey.

Nikki was only partially aware of her own cries as she fell. Perhaps she ought to have been thinking of her family; what she'd done to them; rethinking all her choices and despicable decisions. Maybe her mind should have been dwelling on the person she wished she could have seen one more time, just like those romantic heroines in fanciful tales.

But, in reality, her brain had frozen into a worthless block of ice. She was not thinking at all, only falling.

She hadn't expected to die this way. At her age, she still thought of herself as being somewhat immortal, unable to be killed until she was old and weak. But the sensation of falling flattened that foolish notion as completely as the ground was about to do to her body.

Warren, his arms flailing about like a giant octopus (Nikki supposed that she probably was too), came into view as the two doomed teenagers neared the crushing finality of the earth. His blonde hair was swept back from his face by the roaring wind and Nikki suddenly choked. There was no mistaking him.

He was the boy from the alley.


	14. An Old Friend of the Parkers'

I'm keeping up my record of about one update a month. Just for an idea of how many more chapters I have planned, I'm estimating somewhere around five and probably a short prologue. I have to admit, I hated writing the back scene. That's probably why it needs a little help. But since I have recently begun an original story (as in not a fanfic), I'd very much like to get this done as soon as possible. That's a good thing for all of you, I suppose. And the tiny flashback in here is from the night Nikki ran away. I don't know if that would confuse you, but it's an awfully long time to make you all go back and remember. Hope you enjoy it!

giveGodtheglory – Thanks so much! I love cliffies!

Xaris of the Fish – Thank you!

Trekkie in a TruckerHat – Thanks so much! It makes me feel really good when somebody points out something specific that they liked!

Moonjava – Thanks a lot!

Yyunesprith – So you have read The Archives of Anthropos, eh? Actually, don't know if you've read them all, but Suneidesis gets married and has a son. I see where you're coming from about the whole "angst" thing, especially after reading my one-shot. This story was kinda inspired by that, hence the similar theme. And I hate to tell you this, but as I mentioned in my AN last chapter, Skylar is just an RP charrie stuck in there for fun. She, unfortunately, has nothing to do with the story. She does, however, have much to do with Thorn's past. But I won't be going into much, if any, detail about that in this story. Thanks so much!

Moonbeam – Original name…lol. Where did you ever get it? Made me laugh. You had better review again! Hehe!

Griselda Banks – First and foremost, I want to say that I'm horribly sorry about not being able to have you beta this story. I really wanted you to. I will continue to read and review your story! Please don't hate me! I loved your comment about surviving past the 13th chapter…although it IS an unlucky number…haha, jk. It seems like you're on the right track about her powers. Nikki's a bit confused about them too. Thanks a lot!

* * *

**An Old Friend of the Parkers'**

If she hadn't already been screaming, Nikki suddenly emitted an ear-piercing shriek. A cold fury swept through her. She was _not_ going to die so close to having all the answers. She was not going to die because of faulty abilities.

She was not going to _die_.

With a vicious swipe, her fingers caught around Warren's flailing arm and clung on for dear life.

Nikki looked down, or more correctly, straightforward. Their soon-to-be crash site appeared to be the sidewalk in front of the Empire State Building.

People were screaming and running about chaotically below them. Everything seemed to be growing at an uncontrollable rate. The cars were no longer cute little miniatures. They were very much life-sized and deadly.

She threw her left arm up over her face to shield it from the life-crushing view. Warren was shaking her wildly about as they fell together, but she refused to let go. This was it.

Closing her eyes in the utmost concentration, Nikki willed her abilities to kick in. It was like trying to start up an old engine that just wouldn't go. _C'mon…c'mon…_

"YES!" A spark of blue that began at her scar flickered. Then it raced up her arm, splitting when it met the rest of her body, and spreading out to encase her in blazing azure.

Onlookers saw two people plummeting toward them. They ran, screaming, out of the way and watched in amazement as one of them seemed to catch fire – blue fire.

Warren looked even more terrified than before. His eyes bulged as her brilliant light began to extend past her fingers and over him.

He fought like a rabid dog to pull away, but this masked woman was using some sort of inhuman strength to hold on. They only had about half a second before they hit the ground anyway.

They connected, but they didn't stop.

Fantasma numbly saw the solid line of sidewalk pass her eyes as she plunged through it painlessly. Well, not completely painlessly. It was almost as though she had just hopped into a pool. She felt the air around her instantly snatched away.

Warren had stopped fighting to get away from her and had begun trying to claw his way out of the all-consuming blackness. He couldn't breath. He could barely think. Fantasma changed their direction and started pulling him; pulling him through something thick and fluid like water.

Consciousness was beginning to elude her. Bright red dancing lights entered her blackened vision. Fantasma felt a warning prickle in the back of her neck. She knew she was going to suffocate if she didn't get to the surface soon.

The only thing keeping her going was the knowledge that she had to get away to a place where she could question Warren. The taunting red sparks in her vision multiplied; their dance became more frenzied.

Just as she began to slide back into utter blackness, Fantasma burst from the earth and a rush of air filled her heaving lungs.

Mostly through her peripheral vision, she observed that they had ended up in some sort of storage room, complete with a couple of scattered boxes.

Turning, she wrenched Warren out of the ground by his shirt. The sudden light nearly blinded him as she slung him down onto the floor a few feet away.

Warren lay there in a heap, gasping and choking. It was at least a minute before he could struggle into a sitting position and try to focus his blurring vision. The first recognizable thing he saw was a thin black boot.

Fantasma glared condescendingly down at him. Her feet were planted resolutely and her hands rested on her hips. She watched Warren squinting stupidly up at her.

He started out intelligently enough, and it went downhill from there. "Wha-?"

Fantasma lunged forward, gripping his shoulders tightly, and pinned him up against the plain white wall. His face inches from her own, she spoke calmly but with a haunting threat in her voice.

"How do you know Spider-Man?"

Of all the things Warren had been expecting the terrifying costumed woman to say, this question was not one of them. "Wha-what are you talking about?" he stammered.

She let go of his left shoulder and raised her hand to strike him. Warren shrank back from her as much as possible, cringing pitifully. A narrow emotion that could have been interpreted as satisfaction crossed her face beneath the deep violet mask.

"Now," Fantasma continued in that same composed tone of voice. "How do you know Spider-Man?"

Warren blinked at her like a deer caught in headlights. "You mean that weirdo who runs around in spandex?"

Fantasma bit back a retort. "Yes, to put it that way, 'the weirdo who runs around in spandex.'"

He hesitated briefly, as if he was waiting for more explanation.

"Well?" she said.

Warren looked confused. Fantasma had to wonder sarcastically just how difficult it was to do that to him. "What about him?" he asked, clueless.

"How do you know him?" she snapped. "How do you know Spider-Man?"

"I don't."

Something in her finally lost it. Fantasma threw him across the room furiously. She was practically radiating frustration as strongly as she could glow.

"LIAR!" she screamed.

Warren scrambled to his feet and hurried to cower in the corner as she advanced. Her eyes seemed to be shooting sparks. "I don't know! I don't know what you're talkin' about!"

"What do you mean? Of course you know! You fought with him in an alley back in June! I saw it!" Her eyes were blazing now.

Warren tried to become small, curling up into the fetal position and whimpering a continuous stream of: "IdunnoknowIdunnoknowIdunnoknow!"

Fantasma stared at him. She stopped moving and let her arms hang listlessly at her sides. Was it possible that he was telling the truth? Maybe she had mistaken him for someone else. Her fury and determination was replaced with uncertainty. Perhaps she was interrogating the wrong person.

"Look at me," she said quietly. Warren remained in a ball on the floor, still sniveling. "Look at me," she said more firmly.

He finally raised his face to stare into her black velvet rimmed eyes.

It was him alright.

Fantasma sighed and turned away. For all his crudeness and self-centered behavior, he was really just a big, dumb brute. Something wasn't lining up, but it wasn't his fault. He was telling the truth.

"Go," she said dully.

Warren peered around his hands fearfully at her, but her back was to him now. He sat up slightly.

"I said go," she snarled without looking at him.

He didn't need to be told twice. Warren leaped to his feet and bolted out through the door, still howling like a wounded puppy.

Fantasma waited only a few seconds before crossing the empty room to the wall opposite the door. She ghosted her head through, checking to make sure the coast was clear.

She found herself gazing about a busy department store. People were bustling about, shopping, completely oblivious to the random head in the wall that was looking around.

Fantasma stepped backward into the storage room and turned to look at the boxes. She ripped one open and was greeted with a very last-season pile of shirts and jeans that were missing tags or had some sort of flaw.

"Eh, it'll have to do, I guess." She rummaged around until she found some things her size.

In less than two minutes, Nikki looked perfectly normal in a pair of civies, out of fashion, but clothes nonetheless. Stuffing her mask into her pocket, she ghosted through the wall into the store and wandered casually outside.

The moment she hit the street, all her previously frozen emotions came back to her in a rush. Nikki was frustrated that she was no closer to solving the alley mystery than before and had probably ended up with even more unanswered questions.

When she returned to the Empire State Building, it was crawling with security personnel and official-looking military people.

Nikki slid through the crowd, cautiously using her ghosting abilities whenever she hit a particularly tight spot. The place where she and Warren had ghosted into the ground was roped off and being well guarded. Helicopters zoomed overhead.

She attempted to go inside but was turned away. Nikki knew she shouldn't have been surprised, but couldn't help feeling suddenly frightened. What a thing to have to explain!

She could just see it now:

_Well, Mrs. Hoffman, I was just leaving the building without telling anyone when two people dropped out of the sky. Of course I had nothing to do with it; and the fact that I was talking to someone on the observatory less than five minutes before it happened doesn't make any difference…_ Oh yes, that would go over well.

Nikki threw the 86th floor observatory a worried glance. How was she supposed to blend back in with her class when she couldn't even enter the building?

"Nicole? Nicole!"

Nikki paused and twisted around. Her teacher, Mrs. Hoffman was tripping down the steps in her high heels past the police officers, her great bangles clanging together and her unzipped jacket flapping behind her.

"Oh my goodness! Nikki!" She threw her arms around Nikki, practically sobbing. "Oh, I'm so glad you're alright! We were so worried." Nikki patted her teacher awkwardly on the back and looked around embarrassedly.

As a policeman stepped up to them, Mrs. Hoffman managed to gather some of her wits and let go of Nikki. "Officer," she began before he could question her. "This is one of my students. I'll take her back in."

She grabbed Nikki's arm and steered her past the curious bystanders and through the great doors. "Come along, dear," she said, sniffling.

Nikki obeyed wordlessly. She had sensed her teacher's slight surprise as the woman had clamped her hand onto Nikki's unusually muscular arm. The moment they were inside, she gently detached Mrs. Hoffman's fingers from around her elbow.

The class was waiting in the lobby, huddled close together like a group of cows on a hot day. Several girls she didn't even know rushed over to them.

"You're okay!"

"Where were you?"

"How'd you get past all the police?"

"Did you see what happened?"

"Oh my gosh, Nikki!"

"What is going on?"

Nikki backed slightly away from them, feeling overwhelmed and nervous. What had happened? Ha, she wasn't about to explain _that_.

Mrs. Hoffman tried to calm them down, but she looked nearly hysterical herself. After shoving Nikki over with the rest of her class, the teacher resumed speaking anxiously with a group of security personnel. She kept wringing her hands nervously, making her bangles jingle loudly. Nikki was surprised she hadn't dropped any yet.

She tried to catch Allie's eye, but the other girl was making a point of not looking at her. Nikki tried to spot Claire's class. Finally she caught sight of the familiar tomato-red hair as the group of juniors was escorted out.

About an hour later, after Warren had turned up, babbling about some crazy lady who knew Spider-Man and wore purple, the class was allowed to leave.

Odrade met them outside. He was furious. Nikki could tell because he kept flipping his cell phone over and over in his hand and running his hand through his hair. He wouldn't speak to her or Allie; just walked them home in a horrible silence.

Back in the basement, Jake greeted them cheerfully from the couch, his leg propped up on the coffee table. It wasn't broken, just badly sprained, and the doctor said that he would need to stay off it for three weeks or so. Jake planned on making it no more that two.

"Yo!" He motioned toward the TV. "You're on the news."

Nikki watched herself falling hundreds of feet with Warren right behind her. A coat, probably hers, fluttered down after them. It was weird to see the whole thing from the perspective of an onlooker on the ground.

Jake turned the volume up so they could all hear. A reporter was doing a voiceover.

"What started as a fun field trip to the Empire State Building for a group of sophomores quickly turned into a nightmare as one of their number and a mystery person plunged the 1,050 feet to the ground. This footage was taped by a pedestrian. The teenage boy was identified later as Warren Bennett, but the other girl remains anonymous. As you can see here…"

The camera, which had been following their progress, zoomed in on the two as they neared the ground. The person holding the camera began swearing and running backward to get away. Then she and Warren vanished into the concrete.

"…they appear to have fallen _through_ the sidewalk, leaving nothing but - get this Dennis - a glowing blue silhouette where they should have landed. After about five minutes, it had completely faded away. Miraculously, Warren Bennett turned up about an hour later, but he is still in police custody and no further details have been released."

The footage was replayed several times. As they finally returned to the newscasters to discuss the mysterious costumed girl who had yet to be identified, Jake flipped the TV off.

"Do you think they'll figure it out?" Nikki asked in a small voice.

For a long time, no one said anything. The room was very quiet. Allie and Odrade exchanged looks.

At last Jake bit his lip. "I don't know, Nik," he said gently. "I don't know."

* * *

"I'm so tired." Fantasma yawned, rubbing her eyes and feeling extremely grateful that she didn't have to endure contacts at this time of night. "How long will this take?"

Krystelle frowned and shushed her. "Be quiet!"

C-Cat giggled softly. Thorn said nothing, as usual.

It was 1:30 AM, the same night of the incident at the ESB. The group, minus Jake, was standing behind a small bank in the suburbs. The lights were all off inside, but none of them had any doubt that the security guards and cameras were still awake.

Fantasma yawned again, adjusting her mask which had the annoying habit of sticking to her face. Secretly, her insides were churning wildly. Not only nervous excitement, but guilt also racked her brain. She was scared, and the weary façade was only a disguise to cover up these emotions.

The four people carefully slid through the shadows to the outer wall. Fantasma felt her heart thumping out of control in her chest. She half expected echoes in the darkness, it was so loud. Pressing one hand to her heart, she tried to calm it by willpower. It wasn't working.

She felt Thorn give her hand a squeeze and jumped. Looking up into the woman's mask (Thorn's covered up her entire face and was black along with the rest of her costume); Fantasma remembered what she was supposed to do.

Now she was really nervous. She was expected to ghost them inside, one by one.

Tightening her grip on Thorn's hand and begging her body to calm down, Fantasma turned around. First, she took a great breath, exhaling slowly. Then she pressed her head through the solid brick wall.

Fantasma could sense Thorn's impatient incredulity at the bright glow she was leaving. _Hey, it's not like I can do anything about it_, Fantasma thought, an irritated blush creeping up her cheeks. She forced herself to focus on scanning the room inside.

Odrade was right; they had come into a meeting room and there wasn't a camera to be seen. The lights were all shut off, but her glow lent a pale light to the otherwise black room. "Good," she said aloud.

With a jerk, she pulled Thorn through with her a little roughly, still feeling a tad miffed at the woman's obvious lack of faith in her abilities. Thorn stumbled in, unnerved by the peculiar sensation of not being able to breathe inside the wall. Fantasma gave her a smug look.

As soon as Thorn was on her feet again, Fantasma stuck her hand blindly back out through the wall and waited for Krystelle to take her hand. She ushered her inside and finally ghosted C-Cat through.

"Whoa," breathed Thorn. It was the most Fantasma had heard her say all day.

Krystelle looked winded, but C-Cat was grinning broadly. His white teeth sparkled in the dim blue lighting.

Thorn led the way to the door. Leaning up against the wall and motioning for them to do the same, she reached forward. Her hand couldn't quite touch the door, but a clump of silver tendrils shot out and laced themselves around the knob. The spines twisted it silently. It was locked.

Fantasma wished she could see Thorn's face. The woman's countenance was probably screwed up in concentration beneath the mask.

One spindly metal thread released its hold and poked into the lock. A few seconds later, there was an audible _click_. Thorn gave the door a light push. It swung open silently.

Thorn waited a while before sidling out. The rest of the group followed her single file, casting nervous glances at the shadows that hung about like enormous black drapes.

They saw several security guards and cameras but managed to duck out of the way just in time. The only close call came when Fantasma, already very edgy, completely lost her head and ran directly in front of a sleepy guard.

A bundle of metallic spines pinned him up against the wall while Krystelle knocked him over the head with a large chunk of pink crystal before the poor man could scream.

Fantasma gave the unconscious man a sympathetic look. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Krystelle wrinkling her nose scornfully.

A fleeting spike of resentment mounted in Fantasma's chest, only to sink back to a grumble as she thought of what was to come. C-Cat just smiled.

The climax of their raid was to be her job.

"Dude, you can walk through walls! Just march right in and snag the gold,"Jake had said. Easy.

"Or not," she murmured with a sigh.

"What?" said Thorn as they neared the safe.

Fantasma dropped her eyes. "Nothing"

They reached the safe too quickly for her. It was at the end of a hallway that seemed incredibly short and inside a small room that looked awfully exposed.

Thorn motioned her forward. "Ghost in and I'll follow behind you." She pointed Krystelle and C-Cat to guard the two hallways. They positioned themselves on either side and Krystelle gave Thorn a thumbs up.

Fantasma walked right up to the door, hesitated, then gathered up her wits and swept through it. The small room was very dark, but for her shining silhouette. Turning around, she saw Thorn duck inside the ghost residue.

The dark-haired woman nodded at the metal safe. "Go ahead. It's all you now."

Fantasma stood before it, shuffling her feet apprehensively, but didn't move any further. She twisted her finger around her brown ponytail and bit her lip. Now that it came right down to it, she wasn't sure she could go through with it. Her mind was spinning. _This is wrong…I shouldn't be here…But what can I do?_

_Nothing_, another of her jumbled thoughts said. _Absolutely nothing._

Thorn broke into her musings. "What are you waiting for?" she said with annoyance. "We'd like to get out of here sometime this year."

"Yeah." She was drawn out of her trance. "I'm going, I'm going."

"Good," said Thorn, settling back against the door window but looking just as taut as ever. "For a minute there, I thought you were gonna get cold feet."

The girl laughed humorlessly but didn't move. Somehow she just couldn't make herself walk into that safe. To steal.

They might have stayed there like that all night if a guard hadn't stumbled upon the body of his insensible comrade. He let out a shout of fear and surprise.

The whole building came alive with that yell. The few guards were scurrying around looking for intruders, setting off alarms, and stalking about the hallways while trying to look big and intimidating.

Thorn swore loudly. "Fantasma!" she said, squinting out the window beside the door. "Get in there _now_!"

Fantasma lunged forward like a spooked horse, remembering to ghost at the last possible moment. Although the safe had sealed itself and the usual security measures had been put into effect, she reemerged a few minutes later, hauling several sacks of bills that a sixteen-year-old girl should not have been able to carry.

"Let's go!" Thorn shouted.

But Fantasma had frozen up. Her danger sense was screaming and her conscience was riddled with guilt. The spinning lights everywhere almost made her sick. She stared around in wide-eyed trepidation.

Without a word, Thorn grabbed a sack out of her arms and yanked the terrified girl to the door. A horde of metal tendrils burst from her hands and smashed into the door, splintering it and sending wood shavings flying.

Fantasma covered her face with her hands as Thorn kicked the remainder of the door down and, grabbing her arm, dragged them both out of the wreckage.

They were met by only frantically grinning face of C-Cat – which was his way of showing fear - and Krystelle.

"I sealed off that hallway but left the other one as an exit." She yelled over the scream of the alarms and sirens. One hallway was indeed blocked by a wall of glinting pink crystal. Then she said, stating the obvious, "I think the police are here."

C-Cat's wide, grinning mouth suddenly screamed and disappeared.

Through the screen of crystal, Fantasma could see a group of police officers pelting toward them. The flashing alarm lights winked off gold colored badges. They were carrying guns; big, nasty looking firearms.

"Go, go!" shouted Thorn. She waved the two girls down the other hallway. "The crystal will buy us time!"

Indeed, the police had screeched to a halt before it. Most were running their hands over the smooth pink surface in amazement. A few were trying to find a way to break through. But the rest had turned around and were attempting to head off the thieves before they could reach an exit.

Krystelle complied with Thorn's command at once. Without a backward glance, she sprinted off, disappearing around a corner.

Fantasma watched her go. She couldn't believe what she was doing. The heavy bags felt like they were full of nothing more than worthless bricks. What was this ill-gotten gain to her?

Before she had a chance to completely rethink this whole "job", a blinding warning streaked across her vision. Everything around her had slowed to a crawl. She was used to her danger sense by now, but it had only been this strong once before: that miserable night of running away…

_A man with a gun was holding up a cashier and looked like he had already knocked out the only other worker in the small shop. He waited as the terrorized lady began shoving some money into a bag for him._

_Just then, the woman's gaze caught sight of her through the rain streaked window. "Hey! Help!" She screamed frantically._

_Startled, the robber spun around and fired through the window at Nikki._

Even in the unearthly slowness, two inches of lead was still racing toward her. Fantasma, startled but not completely thrown into disarray, used her best tactic for bullets; she let it plunge into her side, coming out quite harmlessly and quite blue.

Her eyes watched it fly into the wall, probably lost forever, and turned to stare at the crystal. But it was a solid as before. A horrible suspicion crept up her spine. Whirling around to the open hallway, Fantasma came face to face with the muzzle of a gun, inches from her face.

For what seemed like ages, she could only gape at the endless black hole, open-mouthed. Then, out of the corner of her wide green eyes, she noticed Thorn waving her arms wildly. _She wants me to just ghost through him_, Fantasma thought dully. She didn't move. She'd never been in this situation before.

The dark-skinned police officer who held his gun in her face ordered her to put her hands up. She could see that he was shaking a little bit. He was young. His stocky frame was muscular and energetic. His crew cut black hair glistened with sweat in the flashing lights. Maybe this was his first day.

Coming to her senses, Fantasma raised her hands and the bags of money gradually. The officer looked ready to blow her head off if she moved too fast, he was so on edge.

"You wouldn't shoot a little girl, would you?" she asked with the most charming smile she could muster.

"If you don't get over here now, _I'll_ shoot you!" shouted Thorn from behind them. Krystelle stood beside her.

The officer's head snapped in Thorn's direction. He hadn't noticed her – or the rest of his comrades lying senseless on the floor. Pieces of crystal and weapons littered the hallway. Fantasma made a mental note to thank Thorn later.

The man gulped.

That was his mistake. In the split second of hesitation, Fantasma brought one of the sacks crashing down onto his head. He crumpled to the floor in a heap. His gun slid a few feet away across the shiny tiles.

"Never underestimate the power of a little girl," she quipped in satisfaction.

Her heart pounding in her ears, Fantasma dashed down the hallway, around a corner, and back through the door to the conference room. She ghosted the group out, including C-Cat who appeared just in time, and fled into the night.

Some one near her was cackling quietly as they ran. It was very probably C-Cat, but soon Fantasma could feel herself laughing with relief too as they neared the pick-up point.

They piled into the car. Thorn, after kicking a grinning C-Cat out of the driver's seat, started the engine up and Krystelle rode shotgun.

Fantasma threw the bags into the trunk, slamming it shut. She slumped exhaustedly into her seat in the back. C-Cat appeared a few minutes later in the seat beside her, hooting with laughter.

It had been an exciting night.

* * *

Christmas Eve.

Nikki shivered in the cold. Tugging her jacket tight about herself, she flowed along with the stream of shoppers down the sidewalk. From the rooftops, where she had been sitting less than fifteen minutes ago, the streets looked like a rushing river of hats and red, jolly faces.

She pulled out of the current and into Macy's. Getting away from the icy breeze by the doors, Nikki unzipped her coat and shook snow out of her wet brown hair. She took in her surroundings quickly.

The department store was decorated with brilliant Christmas streamers and fake fir trees. Red and green balls hung from the ceiling. Employees wore elf hats. Sale signs and Seasons Greetings and other pithy holiday sayings were scattered thickly about, as though some one had dropped them from above in a game of fifty-two card pick up. A thin sheen of muddy water coated the floor.

Last-minute shoppers like herself hurried by, trying to find the perfect gift before going home to a cozy home and a happy family.

Nikki felt a little homesick remembering that she would not be celebrating with her real family this year.

_No_, she told herself grimly, _I don't have a family._ And just to settle her little ongoing argument with herself: _They've probably forgotten about you anyway._

Her callous side had won another battle. Woohoo. But the rest of the war was still awaiting her.

Wandering into the juniors, Nikki picked out a pink top that she knew Allie would love, whether she let on or not. She wondered distantly why she was getting her a Christmas present in the first place. Shrugging it off, Nikki felt her purse on her shoulder and was reminded of the fat wallet she was shopping with.

Her gift from Odrade.

She'd already picked out a videogame for C-Cat. Nikki didn't know what it was about, but the clerk had assured her that it was perfect for a ten-year-old boy. Nikki thought it looked violent.

And for Thorn, after much deliberation, she decided on a black tank top. One of ten that the woman already had, most likely, but at least it was something.

But what to get for Jake?

That question now rang in her mind. What on earth could he possibly want? For some reason, Nikki felt she ought to get him something that wasn't just another thoughtless Christmas present.

Chewing on one finger absently, she looked around the store. Her eyes fixed on a girl with bright tomato red hair and a good-looking guy walking beside her.

"Claire!" she cried, waving.

Claire looked for the person yelling her name. Seeing Nikki, she let out an excited squeal. "Nikki!" She came running over, a huge smile on her face. Her pearly white teeth gleamed.

Claire gave her a hug. Stepping back she said, "I haven't seen you in, like, three months!" They talked often on the phone. "You should have told me you were going to be here! Are you by yourself?"

Nikki felt her optimism slipping. "Yeah, everybody else had a party to go to. I'm just doing a little last-minute shopping"

"Last-minute _Christmas Eve_ shopping!" said Claire. "I didn't know you were such a procrastinator."

"Not usually, but I've been really busy," said Nikki. What an understatement. She was still feeling the effects of being up all night at a bank in New Jersey two days ago. "You got your braces off. Looks good."

"Thanks," blushed Claire.

"So," said Nikki, "aren't you going to introduce me?" She motioned to the guy standing a couple of feet back from them. He had curly cocoa hair and shining brown eyes. He was very tall. "This must be Luke, right?"

"Actually," said Claire, "this is Aaron Michelson. He's just a friend. Luke wasn't feeling very well today, so we decided to go by ourselves. Aaron, meet Nikki Parker."

Aaron leaned forward, taking Nikki's hand in a bone-crunching shake. Nikki allowed herself to put a little pressure into it too.

She had to crank her head back to look him in the eye. Despite being strong, Aaron still had a lot of filling out to do for a seventeen-year-old. But she couldn't help admiring that crazy hair of his.

"Whoa, quite a grip you've got there, Nikki. Do you work out?" he asked.

Nikki smiled mysteriously. "A little."

Claire looked between them. "Well, I can see you guys are hitting it off right away. Maybe Aaron should walk you home instead."

Instead of taking the joke, Nikki felt a tiny bead of sweat on the back of her neck. She always got jittery whenever she was afraid of her job being discovered.

Aaron laughed to fill in the awkward silence. "It was nice meeting you, Nikki. See you around, I hope?" He winked.

Nikki swallowed and tried to return the friendly gesture. His wink sent a flurry of butterflies erupting in her stomach.

"Goodbye, Nik!" called Claire as the two drifted away.

"Bye," mumbled Nikki, her eyes still on Aaron.

* * *

At the Parker household, several weeks later…

Snow was falling hard outside in chunks, rather than floating to the ground as delicate little flakes.

Mary Jane hardly noticed. She was too busy getting the house and dinner ready for company. As she poured a bag of chocolate chips into the bowl of batter, the timer screeched that the chicken was done.

She abandoned the desert momentarily as she turned the timer off and opened the oven. Savoring the smell of a whole cooked chicken, she didn't see Ben sneak into the kitchen. He scooped a handful of chocolate chips into his mouth.

"Mom, Ben's eating the chips!" said May from the table.

He gave her a dirty look. Chewing and swallowing as quickly as possible, he gave his mother an innocent face.

"Ben," said MJ warningly. She carefully hoisted the roast pan out of the oven. "Have you been eating the chocolate again?"

"Uh…" said Ben. A glob of brown leaked out from between his lips.

"Ew!" said May, leaping to her feet.

Mary Jane grimaced in disgust. "That's - "

Ben wiped his face and licked off his fingers with obvious relish.

" – gross." MJ sighed and raked one hand through her strawberry blonde locks.

She seemed to have aged several years in a couple of months. Her hair was still red, but she was no longer sure how much was her own gorgeous color and how much was a result of dye. The disappearance of her eldest daughter had taken its toll on Mary Jane Parker.

The doorbell rang.

Mary Jane panicked. "They can't be here yet!" She spun to face the clock. "It's only 4:30!"

But, just to be on the safe side, she started hurling orders around like a drill sergeant.

"Ben, go wash your face. May, get your homework off the table…No, don't put it on the counter."

She snatched the stack of papers and books up and shoved them at her daughter. "Go put them in your room."

Hurriedly untying her apron while, MJ ran to look out the window. There was no car in the driveway. She frowned. The doorbell rang again, twice this time.

She took a broom from the closet and began walk toward the steps. Living with a superhero had taught her to be suspicious of anything unusual.

Ben was already halfway down the stairs when Mary Jane crept out of the kitchen, a red broom held high above her head. "Mom…?" he started, but she shoved him behind her.

"Go into your bedroom and take your sister. Don't come out until I call you."

MJ stole down the wooden steps softly, her neck craning to see out the window beside the door and wishing that the steps weren't so creaky.

The chime of the doorbell nearly sent her through the roof. She stopped to calm herself, then wrapped her hand warily around the knob. Her face was almost as red as her hair. Adrenaline flew through her veins at an insane speed.

Raising her broom to a threatening position, she yanked the door open.

A mutilated mixture of dark blue goop and man staggered inside, collapsing on the floor.

Mary Jane gawked at him in shock. "Venom?" she gasped. She had completely forgotten that she was still brandishing a broom above her head.

Rolling over, the man opened one eye and gave her a crooked grin.

"That's no way to greet an ol' friend, MJ." Then he passed out.


	15. A Little Dose of Venom

Alright everyone, I know that I'm late in updating, but believe me when I say that I haven't been just sitting around! This chapter kind of needs an intro. I'm sure there will be people who think I didn't do our favorite blue villain justice, but I've tried my best. This chapter is a little like the sub-chapter I posted earlier in that it doesn't directly involve Nikki – for now. And you have now either heard of or met all the important characters in the story. I hate to say it, but it is unlikely Venom will rear his ugly head again in this story. But I promise that the X-men, Groak, and Gerald Anderby (Don't forget that name!) will play very vital roles. Now, enjoy!

Moonjava – Speed reader, eh? Thanks!

giveGodtheglory – Thanks so much!

Xaris of the Fish – You bet he is! And I'm going to be REALLY made if he doesn't make it in the third Spider-Man. BTW, did anyone pick up the line in the first movie about having "Eddie on it getting pictures of Spider-Man all week"?

Jinxeh – I'm so honored that you'd read this! Wow, I kept you up til 12:30? Yay! Thank you so much, and I'm going to read the second chapter of Mockingbird Syndrome. I just finished HBP and loved it. Hope you did too! If anyone is interested in reading an X-men/Harry Potter cross-over, check out Jinxeh!

Repto – Glad you liked it! Ock isn't in this, unfortunately. He just wouldn't fit, and I felt like everyone else was using Ock already so why go with the flow? If you don't know much about Venom, I'll admit that I didn't do a real good job explaining who or what he is. I felt like it would slow the pace. Check out if you're interested.

Griselda Banks – Thank you sooooo much. I'm so glad you still remember the sub-chappie. I'm only afraid people will forget names. Oh well. Just like I said to Repto, if you want a better idea of who Venom is, you'll have to swing by for a quick intro to him. I didn't really explain him at all. I'm looking forward to your final chapter/s!

Everyone – READ AND REVIEW! It only takes a minute to say that you liked it or didn't. Please take that time!

* * *

**A Little Dose of Venom**

Mary Jane dropped the broom to the ground with a loud clatter. For several seconds, she remained there, staring at the man who had once been a coworker – and deadly enemy - of her husband.

Then she knelt tentatively beside him, uncertain of whether to be more concerned for his life or the potential danger of the symbiote.

Venom, or Eddie Brock as the human part of him was called, was covered in brutal lacerations. Looking outside, MJ could see staggering bloody footsteps leading up their walkway.

Years of tending to her husband's wounds had taught her not to fear the sight of blood. But _never_ in all their years together had she ever seen anything like this. "You stay right here," she said, holding one hand over his forehead but thinking better of actually touching it. "I'll call Peter."

The door to Ben's room was cracked open. Two very frightened pairs of eyes watched her hurry up the steps in a daze. "Mom?" said May apprehensively.

A sudden maternal fear crossed Mary Jane's brow like a piece of ice. They should not see the carnage in their entryway. They were only children.

Casting a sickened look down the steps, she swept into Ben's room, blocking their view. She closed the door behind her, sat on the bed, and drew her two babies to her.

"May, Ben," she began, forcing her voice not to tremble. "You have to be brave, alright?"

May nodded solemnly but still aware that this conversation starter was a little overused in their family. Ben watched his mother, wide-eyed.

"There's a man here who's very hurt." She almost grimaced at the gross understatement.

"Did he get in a fight?" asked Ben.

"Maybe," said Mary Jane distractedly. "But I want you not to go see him. Stay in here. I'm going to go call Daddy." She hugged them both tightly.

"Everything's gonna be fine," she said, mostly for her own benefit.

* * *

"Dr. Parker?"

The receptionist's voice drew Peter's glassy look away from a group of students poking pencils and other flammable objects into the Bunsen burners and to his phone.

As he leaned across his desk to pick it up, he called, "Johnson, if you don't stop trying to set Miss Tyler's hair on fire, you'll fail this lab." He did not particularly like this class; most of the kids were just in it for their Gen Eds requirements.

"Yes?" he said into the phone.

"Your wife is on the line," stated the university receptionist. She sounded almost as tired as him.

Peter perked up a bit. Leaning back in his chair, he said, "All right. Go ahead and connect her."

Mary Jane's voice had rarely been a more refreshing sound. "Hey, Pete."

"Hi, Honey. What's up?"

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asked. Peter instantly caught that one dissonant note in the lovely chord that was her voice.

He looked back at his students. They were all aware that his attention was distracted and were taking full advantage of it. Only Susan Brooks, a freshman who reminded Peter remarkably of himself, was still working diligently.

"No," he said. "Is something wrong, MJ?"

"Uh…"

He heard her cover the receiver and clear her throat. His eyebrows pulled together in a frown. "MJ?"

"Peter, you won't believe this, but Ve--_Mr. Brock_ just showed up."

"What?" said Peter a little too loudly. Several students glanced at him and started pretending to be making measurements.

"But he was in _jail_," he said more quietly. "_I_ should know. I put him there."

Mary Jane was silent for a few seconds.

"He must've busted out then." She ignored her husband's exasperated sigh. "Sorry, but you should see him! He looks like he's been in the mother of all fights."

Peter dragged his hand over his face. How on earth had that guy gotten out? He had been sentenced to one of the top prison facilities in the country, each cell made uniquely for its occupant. "Is he still at our house?"

"Yes. Unconscious in the entryway. I haven't touched him."

He felt a pang of unease jolt his senses. Dropping his voice to a whisper, Peter said, "But, MJ, my Spi…" He scanned the room for any eavesdroppers, then swiveled his chair to face the wall. "My _you__-know-what_ hasn't been ting–_bothering_ me at all today."

"Then maybe we aren't in any danger. But please come home ASAP, Pete," pleaded Mary Jane.

"I'll be home in a couple of minutes."

"No rush," said Mary Jane weakly.

Peter was already beginning to stand up. "Just keep the kids away, all right? See you soon."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mary Jane."

"Goodbye." And she hung up.

Peter thrust the phone back into its cradle, grabbed his coat, and announced abruptly, "Class dismissed. Make sure everything is cleaned up before you leave." Ignoring the staring faces, he made his way out of the classroom, closing the door behind him with a bang.

In the numb silence that followed, Chad Billinger looked around at his fellow freshmen. "Um, maybe we went too far?"

His best friend, Greg Johnson, gulped as he eyed the charred ends of Mallory Tyler's hair nervously. Nudging Chad, he asked, "Do you think he's really gonna fail me?"

* * *

Mary Jane raced to the back door to meet her husband. "Why are you wearing your costume?" she cried anxiously, pulling him inside. "What if somebody saw you?"

Peter gritted his teeth and whipped off his mask. "Then you can spread the wonderful tale of how Spider-Man retrieved your stolen purse and was kind enough to return it to you." He walked into the kitchen. "Where's Venom?"

"I think you guys have used that one before, Dad."

"May!" exclaimed Mary Jane. "I told you to stay in Ben's room." She hurried to her daughter, grabbing the girl's arm and trying to wheel her around.

May kept her feet planted stubbornly. "I'm staying here."

Peter stopped pulling on his clothes long enough to crane his neck over the railing. The disgusting sight of blood and blue symbiote made him cringe. He didn't often see people that beat up and still alive. "MJ, you just left him on the floor?" Peter leaped to his feet.

"What was I supposed to do?" she said, glaring but still attempting to push May back up the stairs.

Ben elbowed past his sister. "Where's the guy?" He looked around eagerly.

"Ben! Peter, do something," Mary Jane moaned.

She watched her husband hurtle over the banister and land lightly beside the crumpled form of Eddie Brock. He cautiously lifted Venom and carried him up the stairs, struggling not to jostle him too much and issuing instructions. "Ben, clear the table. MJ, get out the first aid kit. May, call the Colts and tell them that we have to cancel dinner."

As Ben haphazardly moved expensive dinner plates and silverware, Peter laid the unconscious Venom onto the flat wood surface. Mary Jane scurried over a moment later hauling their first aid case. Due to Peter's frequent injuries, their selection of medical equipment had become quite extensive.

"May," she said commandingly. "You take your brother and go upstairs _now_."

Ben edged closer to his father, gaping at Venom. "Whoa."

May scowled. "Honestly, Mom. I'm fourteen and Ben's almost nine. We know about Dad's other identity. I think you owe it to us to stop pretending like none of this kind of thing-" she waved her arm in the direction of Eddie Brock "-ever happens. Stop sheltering us so much. We're growing up."

Peter and Mary Jane exchanged a silent look.

May decided it was time to use her strongest ammunition. "That's the reason we lost Nikki, isn't it, Mom and Dad?" said May quietly.

Peter reeled backward as though she had just slapped him across the face. His wife sat down hard in a chair, stunned. No one spoke for a long while.

"Sorry to interrupt this family moment, Parker," gasped a gravelly voice, "but I could use a little help."

"He's alive!" shouted Ben.

"Of course he is," said Mary Jan, recovering quickly. "Come on, Peter. Help me out here." Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, she gave him a morphine injection and went to work stitching up one of the larger wounds across his chest. Peter started cleaning some of the bullet holes. Both children were ordered not to touch anything because of the bio hazard.

It was over two hours later that Mary Jane finally announced that they had done all they could. She remained concerned, however, about blood loss. "Peter," she said, stepping back to examine their work. "He really should be taken to a hospital."

"How are we going to explain where we got all that morphine?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Do we just keep him here then? We're not exactly certified surgeons."

"No," Peter agreed. "But I'd wager there's not a whole lot more that they could do for him."

They put him in a makeshift bed in the basement. It wasn't until the next day that Eddie Brock, now dressed normally and looking human again, was fit to explain himself.

Sitting up painfully, he accepted a glass of water from Mary Jane. Peter stood dutifully by her side, eyeing his old enemy with a mix of distrust and curiosity.

"Thanks," croaked Brock, settling back after a long swig of water. "I owe you guys one."

"You bet you do," muttered Peter. His sick days were valuable, and he didn't appreciate using them up for jail scum like this. MJ shushed him, but Peter could see the understanding in the motherly frown she gave him.

Brock inspected a long stretch of stitches that snaked up his arm. He let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's gonna leave a mark."

He suddenly seemed to remember something. "Oh yeah." Holding up his fist, Eddie Brock released a crumpled and bloody scrap of paper into Peter's outstretched hand. "Another pal of yours wanted me to deliver that."

Peter slowly opened it up, MJ leaning over his shoulder. It appeared to be nothing more than a small piece of torn newspaper. He turned it over, expecting to see some sort of note, but there was nothing; just more newsprint.

"There's nothing written on it," Peter started to say, but Mary Jane stopped him. She motioned wordlessly at the side of paper facing down. He flipped it over.

Brock scrutinized his old enemy's face. He'd read the snippet of article several times before giving up on it. A little blurb in the news about increasing break-ins and the suspected group of young, costumed hooligans meant nothing to him.

He was surprised when Peter's features hardened visibly and Mary Jane's hand gripped her husband's shoulder so strongly that her fingers turned white. "They're only _children_!" she whispered hoarsely.

Peter finally turned his narrowed eyes to Eddie.

"Brock, who sent this?" He shook the paper at him.

Brock shrugged, ignoring Peter's withering gaze. "Some girl at the prison."

"She's the one who sprung you, huh?" Peter rubbed his forehead wearily. "Eddie, we're getting too old for this."

"Yeah," said Brock. "Remember the good old days when you were just a lame photographer for the Bugle and I was at the top of my game?"

"Hardly," muttered Mary Jane.

Peter waved his hand. "Never mind. Who helped you escape?"

Eddie Brock cocked his head to give him a sideways glance. "Your friend Felicia Hardy. Only she's Felicia somebody-or-other now. She said she got married."

"To who?" snapped Mary Jane. "A big shot millionaire, I'll bet."

"Jealous?" said Brock slyly.

"No!" exclaimed Mary Jane, quickly slipping her arm through Peter's. He gave her a grateful look. Brock watched them indifferently.

"So Black Cat was the one who got you out of prison and she wanted you to bring me this," Peter surmised. "Why? And why didn't she high-tail-it out of there too?"

"I don't know, and because she couldn't," answered Brock. "They've got her for good, I think. The person who turned her in had apparently figured out some special way to keep her there."

"But she got you out."

Brock threw up his hands, winced, and brought them immediately back down. Nursing the large gash on his arm, he said, "Yeah, but the guy who got me penned up there wasn't quite as…_efficient_…as whoever turned over the Black Cat."

Peter made a feral noise that Wolverine could have been proud of. Brock looked ready to keep egging him on, but seemed to have a sudden recollection of his injuries and thought better of it.

Mary Jane spoke up. "Why did you bother dragging yourself all the way over here just to give this to us?"

Brock laughed. "It's amazing what a person will do for a pretty face. But you and Peter should know all about that, eh, MJ?"

Mary Jane marched around Peter to Brock's side, bent down, and brought her hand sharply across his face.

Eddie Brock touched his stinging cheek. His head was still ringing from the slap. "Ow…" He watched her walk loyally back to Peter who looked equally insulted.

Crouching down to his level, Peter said evenly, "Listen, Venom, I have half a mind to turn you over _efficiently_ right now. If you know what's good for you, you'll be out of my house by midnight. Understand?"

Then he stalked upstairs, MJ following in his wake and still fuming, leaving his frosty threat to hang like a great, deadly icicle over Eddie Brock's head.

The next morning Venom was nowhere to be seen, but the basement was covered in spiteful, blue, slimy webs.


	16. Black and White

Okay, three cheers for me! I think this is the fastest I've ever updated! I was planning on putting one more scene in this chapter, but it just got too long. Nineteen chapters is still the goal, though. Enjoy!

giveGodtheglory – Thanks. Don't worry about it. No offense taken. I wrote that chapter knowing that something was bound to be wrong since I'm not exactly a comic guru. But if that's the only problem, I'm happy with it.

Moonjava – Thank you!

jjonahjameson – Yay, I'm glad you liked it! I was afraid that I'd lost you, but you're back! Thanks.

And to the rest of my readers, please review!

* * *

**Black and White**

The three teenagers sat scattered about the basement living room. Jake was battling a bunch of aliens on one of the game consoles, Allie was furiously typing a six page paper that was due the next day on her laptop, and Nikki was lying on her back on the couch reading a book.

A giggle announced C-Cat's appearance beside the TV. Jake was so startled he nearly dropped the controller. Nikki looked up in time to see "GAME OVER" written in big, red letters on the screen.

C-Cat sniggled a bit - which was his way of apologizing - and vanished before Jake could recover enough to bean him.

Nikki jammed her bookmarker between the pages and tossed the book onto the coffee table. Sitting up, she asked, "How old is C-Cat?"

Jake gave her an exasperated look. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" he muttered irritably, slouching over to the leather armchair.

"Oh, get over it. It's just a stupid game."

"Ha," he said, dropping into the chair. "That's what you think." But he didn't seem quite as grouchy as before. Jake was never one to stay angry at anyone for long.

Nikki swung her legs around and sat up. "But I could almost swear he looks a lot older than he did when I came."

"That was almost a year ago," Allie interjected, printing her report. She flipped through the pages with a triumphant expression on her face. "Done."

"Yeah, but that's my point. He doesn't look like he's only a year older," Nikki said insistently."

Jake thought for a moment. "You know, Allie, I think she's right. C-Cat could pass as ten or eleven, easy."

"So? That little brat is weird."

In unison, the trio swiveled to see Thorn standing stiffly in the doorway.

Allie wrinkled her nose. "Since when does the high-and-mighty Thorn grace us commoners with her presence during the day?"

Thorn got even stiffer. Nikki could see light glinting off spots of metal on the woman's palms; a sure sign of wrath. Then they vanished. "Since now," Thorn answered imperially. And she marched down the hallway to her room.

"I can't stand that woman," said Allie. She stapled her paper with a loud crunch and dropped it onto the desk. Whipping a hair binder off her wrist, she tied her elegant white-blonde locks back as she glided over to perch on the arm of Jake's chair.

Before any of them had a chance to begin another conversation, Odrade's familiar stomping footsteps echoed off the steps.

Jake was on his feet by the time Veron had walked into the living room. "Odrade," he said sharply.

The man's gaze darted to the stern-faced teenaged boy. Briefly, he seemed to consider returning the way he had come, but changed his mind. "What?" he said resignedly.

"We need to talk about money."

Odrade's eyes flitted between Allie and Nikki who were both watching him attentively. He purposely dropped his cell phone on the carpeted floor and bent to pick it up.

_He's avoiding paying Jake?_ Nikki thought with alarm. _What if he won't give us anything?_ All of a sudden, she saw a dot of hope. _Maybe _this_ is just the thing that I can use to disgruntle everyone enough to leave!_

She still shuddered to think how many millions of dollars she had helped steal during the past ten or so months she had been with the group.

Odrade motioned Jake upstairs. As they left, Jake scowling and Odrade flipping his cell phone over and over in his hand, Allie and Nikki exchanged glances. But rather than start conversing with her, Allie got up, excusing herself brusquely, and hurried into her room.

Nikki stared at the floor. Her hand slid inside her skirt pocket and fingered the thin piece of velvet-lined material. She didn't often wear her costume except when she was "on-the-job", but she _always_ had her mask.

Just as she was beginning to consider having a go at Jake's alien game, her own cell phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey, Nikki, it's Aaron."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Oh, hi!" she said, a bit too enthusiastically to be real. "How are you?"

Aaron laughed. She used to love his laugh… "I'm doin' fine. You?"

"Same here, but a lot better now that you called," she lied. "You have no idea how tense things can get at home." Nikki flopped back on the couch. Usually, she would go outside for a call like this; she had often had terrible reception in the basement. But today it was crystal clear. What a shame.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," she said. "I'm used to it. So what's up?"

"Well…" He sounded a little nervous.

"Yeah?" she encouraged.

"I was wondering if you were busy on the seventeenth."

Nikki went through her mental calendar aloud. "Let's see. I don't think I'm doing anything, but Claire keeps talking about the seventeenth. She won't tell me what it is, though."

Aaron sounded happy. "I'll tell you."

"Spill the beans."

"It's prom at our school."

Her wonderful mood vanished faster than C-Cat. She racked her brain for something to say. "That's prom night at our school too."

"Oh," said Aaron. "You aren't, uh, going with anybody…are you?"

Something in Nikki's stomach twisted. No, she was being silly. Why did it matter if she wasn't already going with somebody? _He_ was going to go with another girl anyway…

"No," she said.

Aaron's voice became hopeful and optimistic once again. "Then, would you go with me?"

Nikki tried to make herself smile excitedly, then remembered he couldn't see her and didn't bother. "Sure, I'd love to!"

"Great!" said Aaron. "I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

She listened to the dial tone for a moment before sliding it into her pocket.

_He asked me over the phone._

Feeling extremely insulted, Nikki rolled off the couch. She landed gently on the carpet in a crouch, rose to her feet, and wandered in a sort of trance toward the open doorway that led to the stairs.

As she clomped dejectedly to the top of the wooden steps, Nikki wondered what would happen if she called Aaron back and told him to get a life – and some nerves.

Checking to see that the coast was clear, she ghosted silently through the shelf/door at the top and into the grocery store.

Only a few regulars were shopping today: a single mother with her two toddlers, a sophisticated businessman who stopped in every day for a cheap muffin during lunch, and a group of junior high punks who considered the whole street their hangout.

Nikki stood in front of her blue silhouette until it faded, pretending to be surreptitiously checking the small red price tags on the boxes of cereal that hid the door.

The businessman, in his fine black suit, meandered past. Taking a bite out of his muffin, he observed aloud, "Everything in this store is so reasonably priced. Can't understand why they would even _try_ to sell cereal for seven dollars a box. Must be magic corn flakes."

Laughing at his own joke, he walked away. The jingle of a bell announced his exit, and a loud crash followed instantaneously.

Nikki turned around to see the single mother looking absolutely mortified. Her little girl had just knocked over a large glass jar of pickles and was watching the warty, green cucumbers roll across the floor.

Odrade and Jake, who had been having a heated discussion behind the cash register immediately forgot their little spat and came running over. As the mother, who had begun sobbing her eyes out, gave them a watery apology, Odrade kindly told her that she needn't worry about paying for it.

"Yeah," Jake put in. "You wouldn't believe how much that cereal has been bringing in since we upped the price!"

The poor woman gave him a confused look; as though she wasn't certain whether or not he was actually being serious. She cast the lined wall of boxes and Nikki an uncertain glance.

"Like I said," Odrade told her quickly, "don't worry about it. I'll get Sarah over there to clean it up." He waved his hand in Nikki's direction.

Bewildered, Nikki looked around to see who he was talking about, but no one was there.

"Is that all, Ma'am?" Odrade took the basket of groceries gently from the mother and led her to the cash register to pay. "Sarah, get a rag, will you, and clean that up."

Cottoning on, Nikki gave him a scowl, but, rather than blow whatever cover he was attempting to create, she marched off to find a mop and bucket.

The door jingled merrily as the much-relieved woman left with her two children several minutes later. Nikki was just returning from the broom closet. She got down on her hands and knees, wiping up green juice and scurrying silently after the runaway pickles.

From her spot in the aisle, Odrade and Jake couldn't see her, but Nikki could hear their ever-rising voices. They seemed to have forgotten her.

"I need that money, Odrade," said Jake's low, threatening voice.

Odrade laughed coldly. "You think you're the only one who needs a little cash now and again?"

"You've got to be kidding me!" growled Jake. "D'you think I have no idea the kind of moola that we bring in? If you don't start shelling some of it out, you can go get it yourself!"

Nikki paused, her mouth hanging slightly open. So Odrade was really going to withhold the payment he owed them?

She could hear Jake stomping around the counter. She could see his shoes through the bottom of the shelf.

"Now, hang on a second."

Jake's pounding feet stopped. "What?" he said without turning around.

Odrade put a few shreds of his former politeness back into his voice. "You know that I wouldn't refuse to ever pay you, I'm just a little late."

Jake didn't respond, but Nikki could almost see him grinding his teeth in frustration.

"If I promise to get it to you by the end of the summer, will you calm down?"

"THE END OF THE SUMMER?" Jake exploded. Spinning around, he yelled, "Do you honestly think you can tell me to wait four or five _months_?"

"Yes," said Odrade flatly. "I have the upper hand here. You wait and do your job, or you're out, Jacob Anderby."

Nikki saw Jake's feet leave the ground as he lunged forward snarling…but he let himself drop back to the ground without touching the man behind the cash register. "You know what? That's fine. Just fine." And he stormed out of the store in a foul temper.

Looking down, Nikki realized she was conducting a smear campaign with the pickle juice-sodden cloth. Her future was becoming less certain by the minute. But she couldn't have asked for a better chance to talk to Jake.

She scrambled to her feet, barely remembering to toss the rag into the bucket of soapy water. Throwing caution to the wind, Nikki ran barefoot down the aisle and burst out of the store.

She stopped running as soon as she hit the sidewalk, letting the door clang behind her. It was sunny and very windy. The breeze pulled shamelessly at her long peasant skirt. She gathered it together in two handfuls at her sides to hold it down.

People pushed past, ignoring the young girl. Her head whipped left, then right, but Jake was nowhere to be seen.

Nikki spat out a strand of hair that had gotten caught in her mouth and chewed her lip. Where had he gone? She knew that if Jake didn't want to be found, there was no searching for him. He was good at disappearing.

She glanced at the Starbuck's several shops down and across the street. Nikki squinted. Was that Jake shuffling near the door outside?

Ducking around an ambling older couple, she tiptoed across the chilly concrete to the edge of the sidewalk.

It was Jake. He caught sight of her and their eyes met briefly. Nikki desperately wished she knew what he was thinking as he stared at her.

Her hair, which had grown even longer over the past year, wandered about her face and flowed to the side in teasing tangles. She released her skirt and let her arms hang loosely. The swishy, white material streamed out freely. Unconsciously, Nikki allowed a plaintive blue hue tinge her face.

Jake broke the moment first. He turned away and strode determinedly into Starbucks. He didn't look back.

A little disappointed, Nikki gathered up her skirt again and stepped carefully back toward the store. She froze.

A pale face framed with sleek blonde tresses returned her gaze. Both girls said nothing; one gaping in horror, the other glaring back with callous iciness.

Allie reached out and touched the door handle. She moved away fluidly, her head back as she barked out a derisive laugh.

Something in Nikki's neck prickled, ever so lightly, but it was more than the deepening feeling of dread that was collecting in her stomach. She tried the door. It was sealed shut – probably with crystal.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Allie flipping the OPEN sign to CLOSED.

Banging on the window she shouted, "Allie! Allie this isn't funny, open the door!"

Allie didn't respond. Nikki couldn't see her anymore.

She cupped her hands and pressed them to the glass to look inside. The store was devoid of life. Furiously, she smacked the door one last time before making her way across the busy street.

Dodging cars and paying no heed to the angry shouts she got for J-walking, Nikki clenched her fists. She couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. And by the looks of the high sun, it was only noon. She wouldn't be able to risk ghosting back inside until dark.

Starbucks was crowded with employees on lunch break. After scanning the store, Nikki realized that Jake must have ordered a coffee and left right away, although the endless line made her assumption seem a little unlikely.

Miserably, she resigned herself to waiting outside Odrade's Fresh Food Mart until either Jake showed up or it was dark.

Sitting with her back against the side of the grocery store, Nikki pulled her legs tight up to her chest. A clunk against her hip reminded her that her cell phone was still in her pocket.

She took it out. Never had she wished more that they had a phone. But Odrade refused to have one. He said they were an unnecessary risk, and Odrade did not take _any_ unnecessary risks.

Nikki speed dialed Claire and waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Claire. It's Nikki."

"Hey, girl!" said Claire's cheery voice. "Whatcha up to?"

"Oh…" Nikki twisted her neck to look up at the door. "Nothing. How 'bout you?"

"I'm getting ready for dinner with Luke tonight, so I can't talk long. Hey, I heard some great news!"

Nikki smiled weakly. "Did you talk to Aaron?"

"Yes!" Nikki could almost picture Claire grinning into the phone. "I'm so glad you're going with him!"

Nikki felt a twinge of guilt at bursting her friend's bubble. But she had become so sick of keeping secrets lately. She couldn't tell her best friend anything. They barely got to see each other since Nikki was so busy. Their conversations were almost always over the phone.

"Yeah."

"You don't sound too happy about it."

Nikki tried to run a hand through her hair, but it got stuck in a bunch of knots. She sighed into the cell phone. "Claire, to tell you the truth, I've been less and less interested in Aaron since we met. Sure, we do stuff, but he's not really…Oh, I don't know. We just don't connect."

There was silence on Claire's end. "That's not what he said."

"Oh?" said Nikki. "What did he say?

"He said you guys were pretty much a couple now."

Pulling the phone away from her face, Nikki groaned loudly. She placed it back on her ear and said grumblingly, "That's news to me."

"Oh, boy," said Claire. "Nikki, if you never wanted to go out with him, why did you lead him on?"

"I was not leading him on!" said Nikki indignantly.

Claire sounded unconvinced. "Hmm. Well, you better figure out how you really feel about him before prom. He'll probably start officially asking you out after that."

"Then I'll turn him down."

"Have it your way, Nikki, but don't blame him."

"Claire," Nikki began hesitantly. "I think the reason I seemed interested was because it's been almost forever since I had a real crush. I'd forgotten what it was like."

"What?" said Claire, exasperated. "This is just a crush?"

"Was," Nikki corrected.

"For goodness' sake, what was holding you back before?"

Nikki lowered the phone slightly. Should she go right out and say it? Should she just tell her best friend what had been taking up her time for the past year? It would make everything so much simpler. Someone who she could actually confide in again…

Raising the phone, she said, "Listen, I need to tell you something –"

"Oh!" Claire shouted abruptly. Luke's here! I gotta go now, Nikki. I'll talk to you tomorrow okay?"

"Uh…okay."

"You'll be fine 'til then, right?" Claire asked with concern. "'Cause I can always tell him to wait for a few minutes…"

"I'll be fine, Claire," said Nikki. "Bye."

"Okay, talk to you later then! Bye!" And she hung up.

Nikki turned off her phone and shoved it into her pocket. Stretching out her arms, she let them hang forward over her knees and rested her head on them.

About an hour later, she heard a small giggle from beside her. She raised her head to see C-Cat sitting against the door too, imitating her pose. Once again, Nikki was struck by how much older he seemed to have grown.

He looked up, saw her, and laughed. He looked older still.

"Hello, C-Cat," she said warily. Then, having an inspiration, she said sweetly, "Do you think you could pop inside and get the door open for me?"

He chortled with glee and shook his head.

"Why not?" She glared at him.

He flipped imaginary hair about and sniffed; his sign for Allie.

"So? I won't tell her who let me in."

C-Cat crossed his arms.

"Please?" begged Nikki.

The boy jumped to his feet, holding out his hand for her to take. Nikki eyed it charily. "What are you going to do?"

Of course, he said nothing but smiled without explanation.

"All right. I'm trusting you…even though I probably shouldn't," she mumbled. Standing up and easing the stiffness out of her legs, Nikki took his hand.

For a moment nothing happened. A woman swept past the shop on high heels. She walked with an air of confidence, swinging her purse with just enough flair to accent her panache.

As Nikki clutched the little boy's hand, her eyes followed the woman's steps. They were gradually becoming slower…dragging…barely moving…And the colors on her dress were becoming faded and less vibrant.

Looking around, Nikki gasped. The whole world was stopping. It was as though the wheels of time themselves were grinding to a halt. Everything looked like an old fifties movie on pause; black and white.

The warmth from C-Cat's grip brought her back to reality. Her free hand touched her face and smoothed her shirt; her gaze quickly took in the colors on herself and C-Cat. She whirled on him. Taking a shaky breath, she asked, "What _happened_?"

"This is what always happens."

Nikki nearly pulled away in shock. "You can talk?"

He squeezed her hand even tighter. "Don't let go." He started to pull her back to the shop door. "Ghost us through."

"What's going on? And how come you can talk?" She grabbed his shoulder and forced him to face her. Her face was wild with questions. "Why haven't you ever spoken before? Is this why you're so much older? Because you spend all your time in this…this place?"

He raised his face to meet hers; Nikki barely recognized it. There was an unusual…a chilling…spark in his eyes that had never been there before. And his lips – he wasn't smiling. If it was possible, his new C-Cat was even more frightening than the old one.

She jerked her hand back from his shoulder as though burned. "Wha -?"

He dropped his gaze. "I said, 'Ghost through the door.'"

"C-Cat?"

"Just ghost through the door."

And Nikki did.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the airless darkness, dragging the little boy with her. They stood on the other side until the residue had disappeared, neither speaking a word.

Without any more delay, C-Cat let go of her hand.

The world instantly resumed its normal pace and color. There was the frequent roar of a passing car, and the buzz of a busy street outside. The flashy signs and advertisements had never struck Nikki as so vivid before. It felt like coming back to life.

C-Cat had vanished; returned to the cold, gray dimension that only he could enter; his own secret hideaway that he, for no fathomable reason, had chosen to share with Nikki.


	17. All Dressed Up and No Place to Go

Hello everyone! I am still here, believe it or not. All I have to say about this chapter is that it ended completely differently than I planned. And for those of you who care, I'm using C-Cat a ton more than I originally meant to. He's turned out to be quite something.

Xaris of the Fish – Thanks so much!

Moonjava – Thanks!

giveGodtheglory – Hehe, C-Cat is my fav charrie, I think. Glad you like it!

Jjonahjameson – I'm so glad you're still reading and reviewing! And sorry about the way slow update.

Griselda Banks – Yeah, I didn't really emphasize Jake's last name because that part was written from Nikki's point of view. Why would she have any reason to think anything of his last name? But nice catch in making the connection! And I'm not sure anybody can entirely understand C-Cat…but he is way cool, I'll admit. J

Tokoyo – I can't tell you how happy I was to get your review! C-Cat is one weird dude. And I loved writing the dialogue between MJ, Peter, and Venom. I hope I kept him mostly in character. I know I made at least one mistake, but I tried my best. Thanks again!

Trekkie in a Truckerhat – Thanks so much! Glad to have you back.

Yyunesprith – Thank you thank you for the compliments! They are very appreciated. As far as Aaron goes, I guess that my explanation for Nikki's behavior is that 1. she has no reason not to be going out with him and 2. I think you might understand a little better after reading this chapter. ;) And if I was Venom, I think I would be a little less inclined to be too venomous to the people I was hoping would save my life. Hehe, Anderby…you'll find out!

Ficfanang – Thanks! And I have to say that your review was a reminder to me to get on this story and finish this chappie!

Logan – C-Cat is a lot more complex than he originally seemed and I think everyone has noticed that. Thanks for the review!

* * *

**All Dressed Up and No Place to Go**

Jake casually flicked a magazine into Nikki's arms as they passed in the hall. She didn't look at him, but stuck it between the books she was carrying.

Nikki avoided contact with Jake and Allie at school so as not to arouse any suspicion. It got a bit annoying, but she was used to it by now. Besides, after the incident with the crystallized door, she hadn't spoken to Allie.

Flipping through the magazine in class, Nikki spotted a little note penned in blue ink.

_Looks like we made the serious news!_

She read through the article. It was mostly speculation made to sound like fact. Nikki was about to put it away when she noticed a small picture. It was blurry and dark, but she immediately recognized the person in the photo. How could she not?

"This is going too far, Jake," Nikki muttered darkly. She shoved the incriminating article into her backpack crossly. "I'm in the news as a criminal."

"Yesterday we discussed the causes of the Civil War. Today we will be looking at…"

The teacher's droning lecture signaled the cue for Nikki's mind to wonder. What she wouldn't give to have C-Cat's abilities once in a while. Just stop time and get up and leave the room for a while.

She smiled, her eyes retaining their blank stare. What a funny kid. She'd been trying without success to talk with him again but had discovered a very discouraging fact: C-Cat was virtually impossible to find.

If he wasn't anywhere in the store or basement, he could very well be in his own little dimension, with no way to reach him. And he hadn't shown any intention of continuing their conversation.

Nikki clenched her fist and brought it down silently on her notebook. _I'm gonna talk to him again. He can't hide forever._

The bell rang; an irritating clang that seemed to pound in her temples.

Allowing herself to be jostled out of the room and into the halls, Nikki sighed inwardly. She could feel the hum of excitement that sang in the air. Everyone seemed to have some reason to be in a good mood except her.

It was prom night.

* * *

"AAAAAGGGHHHH!" screamed Allie, darting out of her room.

Nikki poked her head out from behind her door. Allie was holding up her sparkling magenta skirts with one hand, and pointing hysterically with the other.

"C-Cat, you get out _now!_" she cried shrilly. "You almost ruined my dress!"

There was a loud giggle in reply.

Allie reached into the bathroom, grabbed the first thing she saw, and lobbed it into her room with all her might. She withdrew against the wall and waited for the resounding crash. But there was nothing.

Just as she opened one eye to see what had happened, C-Cat appeared beside her. He was holding Nikki's curling iron and grinning sinisterly.

He placed the iron back on the bathroom counter, still smiling at Allie. Then he disappeared.

Nikki closed her door again. She'd just missed another chance to talk to that kid.

She smacked her forehead; then suddenly remembered that she was wearing a lot more makeup than usual. She tried to walk too quickly in the long dress and ended up stumbling.

"Stupid skirt," Nikki snapped at it. Making her way more carefully to her dresser this time, she sat down. Her reflection stared back at her gravely. But it was – dare she think it – a rather pretty kind of seriousness.

She touched her hair gently. With it all pinned up with jewels and held out of her face, Nikki realized that she had a growing resemblance to her mom.

Her green eyes sparkled with life beneath a layer of eye shadow and mascara. Her lips looked all that more lovely, painted carefully instead of smeared with the cheap gloss she usually wore.

Standing up, Nikki eyed her figure critically. She hated to wear anything sleeveless and this dress didn't even have straps.

It was white. A little bit of delicate pink curled about the skirts. Nikki knew it was very much a princess dress; the kind that could stand up on their own while its wearer struggles to hoist their legs high enough to step into it.

Her arms were too sculpted, she decided, but there was nothing to be done about that.

She bent down to gather up her jewelry. Odrade had allowed both her and Allie to get some real jewels for the prom. That had been Allie's doing.

Attaching the tiny diamond to her ears, Nikki felt too extravagant. As it was, she and Allie would probably have the most expensive dresses at either prom.

Jake could have had the most expensive tux, but, as he put it, "No matter how much it costs, I'm still gonna look like a dancing penguin."

Done adding the finishing touches, Nikki escaped upstairs unnoticed. The plan was for her to walk to Claire's house, and Luke and Aaron would pick them up. Nikki didn't dare ask Aaron to come to Odrade's Fresh Food Mart.

She had just quietly closed the secret door when a voice to her right made her jump. Nikki whirled around, attempting a fight stance in high heels and floor length skirts.

"All dressed up but no place to go."

Mortified, she let her hands fall back to their sides. "Jake."

"Nikki," he said. He was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed and looking quite striking in his tuxedo.

"Look," she said, "I know I told you I wasn't going to prom, but I wasn't lying."

He laughed humorlessly and straightened up. "You're just going out on a midnight stroll in a formal."

"No, I'm not. I'm going to a _different_ prom – at another school." Nikki stared hard at him. "Why on earth would you care anyway?"

Jake shrugged. He kept a maddeningly unreadable expression on his face. "No reason. So," he said. "How are you getting there?"

Nikki ducked her head without meaning to. She felt a little embarrassed at having to walk all the way to Claire's. "I'm gonna walk over to my friend's house, and we'll get picked up from there." She lifted her chin defiantly.

"You're going to walk around New York City all by yourself at this time of night?" he said skeptically.

"It's not that late," she said, her words lacking conviction.

Jake stepped forward suddenly, offering her his arm in a gentlemanly manner. "Would my lady mind if I escorted her?" he said in his best 1800's imitation voice.

Nikki burst out laughing. He looked so funny, standing there in a tuxedo and winking at her and talking with a voice that was much too deep to belong to him.

She very nearly accepted his offer. But then she remembered the incident only a month ago when Allie had gotten jealous. If she saw him giving Nikki his arm, it would look ten times worse.

"No, I – I can't." She dropped the hand she had been lifting.

Jake cocked his head at her. "Allie?" he said softly, reverting back to his own voice.

Nikki opened her mouth. She closed it. By the look in his eyes, she could tell he knew more than he let on about how Allie had been treating her.

He lowered his arm. "I'll at least walk you there. You shouldn't be wandering around by yourself in this side of town." He winked again. "We're not the only thieves in New York."

She smiled a little, thinking of her still-secret abilities. "Oh, I think I can handle it."

He raised an eyebrow, laughed, and motioned her toward the door. "That's okay. I don't mind. Allie and I don't have to leave for another half hour."

"Won't she notice?" asked Nikki, casting the secret door a furtive glance. She half expected Allie to come walking in at any moment.

Jake closed his eyes. His lips parted as he murmured something. Nikki couldn't hear him saying anything and realized that he was using his powers.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." Jake grinned roguishly at her.

"Right." Nikki swept out of the store and he followed.

It was still quite light out as they walked together down the busy sidewalks. Jake laughed aloud several times at the stares they got for being so dressed up. He nudged her. "This is almost as good as the stares we get in our costumes."

"Shh!" she hissed sharply, shaking her head.

Nikki forced her feet to keep moving at the same speed. She still got skittish whenever any of the group mentioned their "jobs."

She felt Jake's suit brush against her bare arm as he elbowed her again. "Hey," he said soothingly. "Don't get all nervous on me."

"I'm not." She restrained the glow that tried to creep over her face after he touched her. And this glow wasn't blue. _I'm totally losing it_, she thought with a mental sigh.

Jake seemed to notice something was up, so he started talking.

"I wonder if C-Cat's still tormenting Allie," he mused aloud.

Nikki contemplated the odd little boy briefly. "Naw. He'll be driving somebody else crazy by now."

"Like Odrade," suggested Jake evilly. "I'd almost join him in that right now."

Nikki laughed.

She forgot about being nervous, and about why she was even walking with him in the first place. Jake had that effect on most people. He was fun to talk to, always joking around. He had the talent of being able to make anybody feel comfortable. Nikki imagined that even his worst enemy would have to laugh along with him.

Turning somewhat serious, she said, "C-Cat's not just an annoying little mute, Jake."

"Oh?" he asked. "How so? You haven't been talking to him again have you?"

Nikki knew he was just teasing. She nearly corrected him; told him all about her mystifying conversation with C-Cat and her determination to speak to him more, but she stopped herself. For some reason, she felt that C-Cat wouldn't want anybody else knowing about it.

Instead, she settled for, "He has his own little secrets."

"Doesn't everybody?" said Jake.

"You've certainly done a pretty good job of keeping yours to yourself," Nikki told him. "Where're you from, anyway?"

He shook a finger at her. "And you've told us all about your family and past life."

She said nothing.

"See, Nik," he went on, "All of us have secrets, and it makes things a whole lot less complicated if they stay that way. In reality, how much do you really know for sure about any of us?"

"Enough," she admitted. "And that's all."

Jake smiled sadly. "You know about Allie's dad, and I'd be willing to put a few dollars on you knowing something about C-Cat too. But do any of us really know Thorn?"

"Can anybody?" said Nikki.

Jake chuckled. "Probably not."

"But you can tell me about Veron Odrade, right?" she pressed. "I know that he's no mystery to you. Where's he from, and who does he work for?"

"You don't think Veron Odrade is his real name do you?" Jake had a weird look in his eyes. Nikki felt an odd twist of fear in her stomach.

"No," she said quickly.

After a few uncomfortable minutes, he said slyly, "So…how 'bout them Yankees?"

And neither of them said anymore about the subject.

A block from Claire's house, they stopped to part ways. Nikki was hesitant to leave. She could tell that Jake was too.

For a moment, they both stood there without speaking, shuffling their feet. At length, Jake looked at his watch. "You're a couple minutes early."

"Yeah," said Nikki.

The empty silence that followed hung in the air pathetically.

He looked at her. "You've changed, ya know that? You're a lot different now."

Nikki straightened up self-consciously. She brushed imaginary specks off her dress. "In what way?" she demanded.

"Well, you're more independent," he began, evidently realizing how awkward this topic could quickly become. "And…"

"And?"

Jake appeared to be wishing that he could take back his first comment. He stuck his hands in his tux pockets, ill at ease.

Nikki felt her spine prickle. She longed to hear his next words, yet dreaded them at the same time. For the first time, she was grateful to be all dolled up for the prom.

He still hadn't said anything. It seemed like hours were crawling by. Why wouldn't he just spit it out? She resisted the urge to tap her foot impatiently.

"And you're more confident."

Nikki stared at him.

Jake continued, talking faster. "When you first showed up, I kept expecting to wake up every morning and find out that you'd run off. You were like a scared rabbit; always ready to bolt."

"But I didn't," she said, an automatic response.

Right then, she found herself half wishing that she had run off. Why on earth had she gotten her hopes up? _What was he supposed to say? _she upbraided herself angrily. _That I was pretty? He's about to go to prom with his _girlfriend…

"I should go," she said. She could feel her cheeks warming at an alarming rate.

Jake began backpedaling down the sidewalk as he talked. "I'll be back to walk you home. There were some unsavory people around on the streets tonight." He saluted with a wink. Then he pivoted on his heel and set off at a steady pace toward the food mart.

Nikki waved weakly and hurried up the steps to Claire's door. She was glad to be away.

She rang the doorbell. Her finger had barely lifted off the button when the door flew open.

"Oh my gosh, Nikki!" cried Claire in delight. "You look gorgeous!"

Nikki allowed her friend to whisk her inside. Closing the door, Claire gave her a big hug. "This is going to be so much fun! And you'll finally get to meet Luke." She giggled girlishly and blushed beneath a layer of foundation.

"Hey," she said, touching Nikki's cheeks, "you've gone and messed up your lovely makeup job."

Nikki started. "Wha-?"

Claire drew Nikki into her bedroom. Sitting her down in front of a large bureau – not as large as Nikki's, but still quite roomy – Claire set about fixing the problem. She bustled around, gathering up several bottles and potions. "Streaks," she explained.

Nikki leaned in close to the mirror, gazing at her reflection.

Two thin lines trailed down her face; one from each of her eyes.

Tears.

Claire gently wiped them off and added a dab of foundation. She didn't ask why Nikki had been upset. Nikki was grateful.

The doorbell a few minutes later sent both girls into a flurry of last-minute activity. Nikki gathered up her composure again and pasted on a smile.

"I know that you'll love Luke," Claire said excitedly as they scuttled to the door.

Nikki's smile turned genuine. "Ooh, the elusive Luke. I can't wait."

Claire swung the door open wide. Two young men stood on the steps, each looking somewhat uncomfortable in tuxes. Aaron was hardly recognizable with his unmanageable shock of hair parted and mostly tamed. But he still looked nice.

He entered first. Nikki tried to be polite while attempting to get a good look at Luke. Upon later recollection, she realized that she had answered only about half of Aaron's questions, and ignored most of his answers to her questions.

After what seemed like an eternity of formal and pointless greetings, Aaron finally got the picture and moved out of the way.

Claire and Luke stood in the doorway together. Claire's face was lit up like Nikki had never seen in before. She was practically radiating joy.

Luke was not at all what Nikki had been expecting. Her first observation was that he had to have the oddest skin she had ever seen. It was an unnatural white color, not pasty, but very pale.

She quickly realized why it seemed so odd: Luke was at least partly Hispanic, yet had an unhealthy hue to his face. But his dark brown eyes sparkled with life. He had high cheekbones and a wide smile, and his dark hair was slicked back in a dashing manner. Nikki liked him immediately.

He held out a hand to shake hers. "It's nice to meet you, Nikki." He had a slight accent.

"You too." She thought Claire had to be very lucky.

Aaron looked between them. "Shall we head out?" He sounded a little tense.

There was a collective murmur of agreement.

Pairing up, they set off down the front steps and out to Aaron's car. It was a brilliant blue jaguar. _That's so Aaron_, thought Nikki. He took a few swift steps ahead to open the door for his date.

She started to get in and noticed Claire giving her a fervent look. Nikki slipped her friend a secretive thumbs up. Luke seemed perfect. Claire relaxed visibly.

But her relaxation didn't last past the Aaron turning the key in the ignition.

Nikki lunged forward to grip the dashboard in front of her as Aaron pealed out of the driveway. Before she had even recovered from shock, she was slammed into the car door as they screeched around another corner.

"Aaron!" she screamed. "What are you doing?"

"Driving," he said calmly.

Nikki stared at him, flabbergasted. He didn't look at her. His lips were pressed together in a tight line. He was angry at her.

Wedging herself back in the seat, she directed her gaze straight ahead. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't get hit. Or - and this was the better but less likely option – they would get pulled over by a cop _first_.

Aaron didn't direct any more of his conversation at Nikki during the ride. He spent most of it showing off and honking obnoxiously at slow drivers. When he did talk, it was to shout a reassurance to Claire that he wasn't going to get them killed.

Mortified, Nikki had to force herself not to literally sink down through the seat. She had never been so embarrassed in her life. Her danger sense was continually ringing in her head.

Howling sirens caught her ears as they neared the bridge. She didn't dare twist around to see if the police were getting close.

Claire suddenly cried out in alarm. At the very moment they merged into a lane of traffic on the bridge, a black SUV tried to swerve around them.

They had landed in the middle of a high-speed chase.

Nikki was never quite sure how the following scene actually played itself out. Somehow Aaron - already going to fast - lost control of the vehicle.

Everything slowed down to a crawl. It seemed to Nikki that some sick-minded person was just trying to make her experience the entire incident on slow-mo, rather than actually saving her life.

They did a 360. Then somebody hit Aaron's beautiful new jaguar from the left. They careened to the right, got turned about by another collision, and smacked nose-first into the guard rails.

Nikki was sure something white had exploded in her face. But it started to deflate. The air-bag.

That would have been the end of it, but for the still-spinning car that bumped them from behind.

She heard the crunch of metal breaking metal. She felt time nearly stop. She was vaguely aware of vertigo as the car started to teeter, almost like some nearly forgotten dream.

Nikki's survival reflexes kicked in, ignoring her own protests against it. _They can't know who I am!_ Her body didn't care.

She swung around to the left, ghosting through the seatbelt, and wrapping her right arm around Aaron while kicking off her shoes. Her feet gripped the floor. She bent her knees like a loaded spring; then released it in a burst of energy.

Pinning Aaron to her side, Nikki's hands each grabbed an arm of the passengers in the back seat. She plunged through the seat, her momentum still carrying her. Her ghosting time through the rest of the car was remarkably short.

The group shot out like a rocket. Time returned to normal.

Nikki let go of them, her arms flailing wildly as she flew through the air. She screamed. Her bare feet hit the pavement first.

They clung to it tightly, and she ended in a pitiful imitation of one of her father's classic poses: the crouch. Except that it was a great deal more difficult in a formal dress.

She straightened up unsteadily, looking for her friends. She wished that she hadn't done that crouch. It was too smooth, too impossible.

Claire was crawling toward Luke, sobbing. She was sort of dragging her leg. Nikki realized in horror that it was probably broken.

Luke sat up just as Claire reached him. He was coughing and gagging, one hand pressed against the side of his head. It was bleeding freely.

Aaron was the closet to Nikki. He had been knocked out. His sleeve was torn and soaked with blood, and his once white shirt was blackened with dirt. Nikki guessed that he had slid across the ground on his chest.

The paramedics had arrived. As several raced toward Aaron wheeling a stretcher, Nikki padded barefoot to Claire and Luke.

Claire looked up when Nikki knelt beside them. "Nikki?" she gasped. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

Nikki chose not to acknowledge her best friend's fear and confusion. She studied Luke instead. "How's he doing?"

Luke coughed again and lay back down. Claire swallowed. "I'm not sure." She whispered, "Luke, please stay awake. Help's here." She gave him a light peck on the forehead.

Paramedics were coming for them too. Claire hung her head. "He's gonna be in the hospital for a long time again. He hates it there."

"Again?" Nikki started to ask.

"Listen," Claire suddenly jerked her close. "I promise that Luke and I won't tell anybody about what you did if you promise to explain everything to me later."

Nikki winced. What choice did she have? "Fine. But what about Aaron?"

Claire started to move away as the medics reached them. "You kidding? He must've had a concussion. They won't believe a word he says."

As the two girls were separated to be checked over individually, Claire added, "And after a while, he probably won't believe it either."

The paramedic cocked an eyebrow at Nikki. "What?"

She shook her head.

"Ok, Miss," he said, disbelievingly. "Now…anything broken?"

"No."

After making sure that she really was fine, he whistled in amazement. "I don't see many people come out of a crash like that in your condition…except for the ones Spider-Man saves." He gave her a funny look.

Nikki felt her stomach clench. She still hadn't thought up a story for how they got out of the car so fast.

"Was Spider-Man here?" he asked, hopefully. "My kid would just die to have his autograph."

Nikki shook her head, a little numb with relief.

"Oh," said the paramedic disappointedly. "Well, maybe some other day."

"You know," he said as he led her over to the ambulance, "every so often my son talks about how much he wishes that I was Spider-Man. He thinks that Spidey must be the coolest dad out there."

Nikki laughed hollowly along with him.

Before the man left her at the ambulance, she touched his sleeve. "If your son is interested, tell him that I've seen Spider-Man by the University a lot."

The paramedic cocked his head at her.

Nikki ducked her head. "I've had a couple run-ins with him."

"Okay," he nodded. "Thanks. I'll tell him."

As soon as he had turned away, she heard a gentle giggle beside her. She held out her hand without looking at the disembodied head. "C-Cat, I think it's time for a clean getaway."

A hand appeared out of nowhere and clasped hers in a cool grip. The colors around her faded to grays and whites. She heard a voice.

"I agree."


	18. Betrayal

I am so sorry that this is so very late, but it is the third to last chapter, and I have already started the next one. As I'm sure you've all noticed, I like to have a little action in every chapter. This chapter has a lot. Also, here you will find a lot of answers to previous mysteries. Enjoy!

* * *

**Betrayal**

Crawling stealthily around the side of an office building, a lone figure crouched even lower against the concrete. She shivered slightly as her thinly covered figure brushed the cold surface.

She braced herself…then sprang forward. Her fingertips connected with the next wall and clung tight. The tiniest tinge of relief brushed her face like a gentle breeze.

For several minutes, she waited, soundless and still, barely daring to breathe. She was listening. No sound reached her sensitive ears. She became a little more brave, a hair cockier.

Her muscles stretched taut, her body pulled itself forward less carefully. She kept her eyes to the sky above her, now certain that she had finally lost him.

A small patch of loose stone in the middle of the wall took her by surprise. Her fingers faltered and she leaned upward against gravity to compensate for the loss of balance. The scrape and crunch of the gravel made her cringe. It seemed ear piercing after such painstaking silence.

Hanging sideways on the wall, she peered over her arm to watch the tiny pebbles fall. Then she looked up.

"Boo."

She jumped at least a foot off the wall.

Before she could fall very far, a strong hand clamped onto her arm and hauled her back up. "You okay?"

Reddening brightly underneath her mask, she mumbled an inaudible answer. The adrenaline was still pounding through her veins.

"What?" he asked. She could hear his smile beneath the mask.

"I'm fine, Dad."

"Whoa, that's not my name out here, remember?"

"Yes, _Spider-Man_."

He laughed. "That's it, May."

"Hey!" she cried as he bounded up the side of the building. She leapt after him. "What happened to Spider-Girl?"

By the time she reached the top, he was just vanishing over the edge of the far side.

Spider-Girl was already weary from their earlier game of hide-and-seek, but she gritted her teeth, biting back the half dozen complaints that her body was yelling at her.

Her feet pushed off the roof and she was in the air.

She fell into a dive toward the street. With two well-placed hands, she caught a light post, curving her back into a C as she flipped around it back into the air.

Spreading her body flat in a near-miss of another building, Spider-Girl shot a webline and was jerked sharply to the right. She caught sight of her quarry again and pursued him with even more energy as Spider-Man led her through a brutally fast-paced chase across the city.

She lost him again in between some buildings. Making a split second decision, she swung to the left, the way she thought she had seen him go.

Neither of the them was too concerned about losing each other. The general rule was that if they got separated for too long, they would meet on the Empire State Building; it was a perfect landmark, impossible to miss.

Several minutes passed without Spider-Girl seeing her father. She was about to grudgingly give up and head to the ESB when Spider-Man shot out directly across her path.

"Whoa!" She shot a webline out of reflex that jerked her around, just missing him. She landed on the side of an office building. "Watch it!" she cried, breathless from the close call.

Spider-Man had stopped too and was looking at her from across the street. Oddly, he didn't say anything.

Spider-Girl cocked her head at him. Was the game over?

All of a sudden, he spun a webline and jumped. She swung automatically after him.

They struck up their madcap game of tag again, faster and even more rapidly than before. Spider-Man whipped around corners, ducked under skyways, and cruised the city skyline with her in his wake. Spider-Girl was laughing with the sheer joy of it.

Today was a day she would never forget.

* * *

Spider-Man perched atop the Empire State Building, his eyes anxiously sweeping the street below. Where was she?

He kept going over the past events in his mind. Surely she couldn't have gotten lost. He bit his lip and started crawling back and forth nervously.

"Maybe it just took her a while to turn around," he said aloud. "That'd be like May, she doesn't quit easily." This reassured his parental mind considerably.

Spidey stopped pacing and sat up. He pulled a little gray box out of the pouch at his ankle.

It was a trick, bringing anything along in his costume, but he had discovered a few creative ways of going about it during his years of being a superhero. Most of them involved a fancy bicycle pack and some Velcro.

Spider-Man didn't open the box; he knew what was in it. It was a pair of rather pricey earrings. He and Mary Jane had spent hours at the mall picking them out.

It wasn't May's birthday or a belated holiday present. Today marked the day that May Parker would begin her official campaign as a full-fledged superhero.

Spider-Man had been waiting for this day for a long time. There was so much to show her, so much to do. There were dozens of allies to meet: the Avengers, Daredevil, the Fantastic Four. And he knew the X-Men had a whole new crew of young mutants. He was already anticipating the friends she would make among her fellow teenager up-and-comings.

There were also a multitude of enemies to encounter. Spider-Man wasn't too excited about them, but he pushed them from his mind. With the good came the bad, he reasoned.

More minutes passed and she didn't show up. Spidey was beginning to wonder whether this whole thing had been a bad idea. Maybe he should've taken his wife's advice and just given the present to May at home. Mary Jane hadn't been too enthusiastic about him taking the expensive earrings to the top of the Empire State Building.

He started pacing again. After another quarter of an hour had passed, his fears got the better of him. He replaced the gray box at his ankle, shot a webline, and jumped.

* * *

"Claire?" Nikki whispered into her cell phone. She looked around furtively.

"Wha- Nikki, is that you?" asked a sleep-infused voice. "Why on earth are you calling at one in the morning? Where are you?"

_Uh, on the street a few blocks away from Veron Odrade's Fresh Food Mart, hoping that no one will notice I'm gone?_ Nikki thought. She shook her head at how pathetic this was. "It's a really long story."

"Oh yeah?" She could hear Claire rustling around into a more comfortable position. "Please tell. I've been waiting for you to call since the accident. It's been weeks."

"I had a hard time getting away."

"Okay…from what?"

Nikki wondered how to just launch into her tale. "My…home." Somehow, the basement of Odrade's Fresh Food Mart didn't seem like a home. "How's Luke doing?"

There was a slight pause. Nikki supposed that Claire could tell she was trying to change the subject. "Well," said Claire. "To be honest, he's not doing that well. He's – he's really sick and his family has never been able to afford treatment."

"Oh, Claire, I'm so sorry." Nikki suddenly felt sick to her stomach at the thought of all the money she was stealing, maybe even money that should have been used to help kids like Luke.

"Yeah, it's okay," Claire said quickly. This was the most depressed Nikki had ever heard her sound. "They've had an anonymous donor for about three years, but a few months ago, the donor stopped sending anything. Luke was getting better, I think, but after the trauma of the accident and the lack of treatments, he's gotten sicker."

Nikki swallowed hard. "Is he still in the hospital?"

"Yeah."

The shame of what Nikki had become seemed to descend on her in a nauseating, clammy, gray cloud. How could she possibly tell Claire? Bowing her head in disgrace, she leaned against the store front.

It was at least a minute before she realized that she could no longer hear Claire's breathing in the other end of her phone, and, looking around, that the world really _was_ gray.

"C-Cat?" she whispered in alarm, pocketing the dead cell phone. She didn't know why she needed to whisper, but the stillness around her was so dense that she felt nearly suffocated.

"Yes, Nikki?"

She bit her lip. The creepy little boy was standing beside her, clutching her arm and not smiling. She stared into his eyes. They seemed abnormally large when not crinkled up into a grin. Shaking herself out of her trance, Nikki asked, "What is it?"

"You shouldn't be out here."

"Why?" She felt suddenly cold and afraid. "Did somebody notice that I'm gone?"

He nodded solemnly.

Nikki was about to swear violently when she noticed that C-Cat was watching her anxiously. It was the most emotion she'd ever seen him show. She clamped her mouth shut with an audible snap.

"I am afraid for you," he said simply.

She shook her head distractedly and glanced about, as if expecting Odrade to walk out of the shadows at any moment. "Don't be."

"Where is your family?" His huge round eyes watched hers intently.

"They're…they're safe." Nikki couldn't believe how concerned he was. Why had this highly unusual kid shown so much trust in her? A fleeting maternal instinct burgeoned in her chest for C-Cat. She risked a question. "Where's yours?" she asked gently.

A flash of fire crossed his eyes. His lips screwed up into a snarl.

"What did I say?" she cried, alarmed.

This boy was no longer small and weak; he seemed feral. And, she noticed, he was nearly as tall as her.

Warning bells erupted in her head. Nikki sprang into a back flip, breaking away from him.

Her surroundings swirled about her in a dizzying pattern of color and sound, and she found herself in normal time again. C-Cat was nowhere to be seen. She thought this was even more frightening.

She spun around, eyes darting this way and that. "Alright Cat, come out, come out wherever you are!"

The night was quiet. A car passed, rustling some nearby trash. As the wind settled, everything became still again.

Nikki shivered. She wished she could at least see him. There was nothing more terrifying than an invisible enemy. Taking a step backwards, she nearly tripped on the broken up sidewalk.

Maybe he was gone…

_CRASH!_

She jumped instinctively as a dry piece of concrete exploded into powder by her feet. "What the - ?"

C-Cat was standing in front of her with his head thrown back, laughing insanely, a second piece of rock in his hand. He stopped laughing abruptly and lowered his eyes to meet hers. Then he spoke.

C-Cat had never said a word when not in his own dimension. Now she knew why. His voice was the most bone-chilling thing Nikki had ever heard.

It cut through the night air like an icy blade, thrown directly at her heart. From the throat of a boy with no more than fourteen years came the harsh cackle of an eighty-year-old man. "I am here, Nikki," he rasped at her. "You told me to come out, and here I am."

He threw open his arms. "What do you think, little girl?" Here his voice cracked upwards briefly into the range of a young child. "Still want to be my mother?"

Nikki screamed.

C-Cat hurled the other piece of concrete at her. She remained static, concentrating on ghosting through it.

Instead, she cried out as the sharp rock caught her square in the chest, just below her neck. This one was bigger; the sharp points bit into her skin and clawed at her collarbone. Something snapped.

One hand clutching near her throat, Nikki stared at him. "My – my powers," she said hoarsely.

He only grinned. Picking up another chunk of rock, he bounced it in his hand once before preparing to throw.

"Stop!" she shrieked at him and lunged. Nikki hit the sidewalk in a cloud of dust. C-Cat had vanished.

Spitting grit from her mouth and wondering if her collarbone was broken, she struggled back to her feet. There was a catcall from behind her.

Nikki whirled around furiously but wasn't stupid enough to jump again. Fists clenched and panting, she made a nasty sight. Her face was a mess of blood and gravel. An ugly blue and purple lump was quickly swelling over the spot where she had taken the hit from the concrete.

C-Cat wasn't even breathing hard. He cocked his head and flashed her a toothy smile. In his low, grating voice he said, "Catch me," and was gone.

She looked around quickly, backing up against the wall behind her. She was not going to be caught off-guard.

A jeering whistle trilled above her. Looking up, she saw C-Cat sitting casually in an open window, one leg bent at an angle to prop up his arm, the other hanging out the window and swinging. He waved.

In some dark recess of her mind, Nikki wondered if he knew about her spider powers. He couldn't – or at least he shouldn't… Maybe he _wanted_ her to use them. Why?

She was wearing her costume beneath her clothes. She always wore it when she snuck out at night. Now, still staring up at him, Nikki yanked off her outerwear, hopping on one foot slightly as she changed out of tennis shoes into her thinner costume slippers.

Before her mask was completely over her head, Nikki was already halfway up the wall. She hadn't done any climbing in a while. At first, she was a bit stiff and out of practice. But her muscles quickly remembered themselves, and soon Fantasma was moving fluidly.

As she reached the window, C-Cat disappeared again. Fantasma had been expecting this. She craned her neck up, straining her eyes in the dark trying to find him.

C-Cat whistled at her rudely from the top of the roof. He had his costume on too.

Fantasma smiled grimly. "It's time to turn this thing around. If it's a chase this kitty wants, the mouse is ready."

She threw herself into the air, landing with a thud atop the roof. C-Cat backed away to the edge. She stalked forward until he vanished and reappeared on the other side of the street.

Fantasma once again climbed after him. Her wild and hopeless chase went on for several more minutes before it occurred to her that he seemed to be leading her somewhere.

Suspicious, she stopped on the side of a skyscraper and scanned her surroundings. She was moving across the city in a fairly direct path. Fantasma frowned. Her ghosting powers still had not returned. She'd never lost them for this long before and was getting nervous.

C-Cat's annoying whistle pestered at her from below. She climbed down, but this time, she pursued him less recklessly. Her reason for following slowly changed from revenge to curiosity. Where were they going?

About forty minutes later, near the outskirts of the city, Fantasma landed at the bottom of a great wall that she judged to be approximately forty feet wide and over two stories high. There were no windows.

She assumed it was some sort of complex, maybe an obscure prison. But she couldn't see any buildings peering over the top. Was there anything inside?

The boy appeared, sitting nonchalantly on the wall. With all the moving around between time, Fantasma wondered how many hours and hours this chase was really taking him.

She had little time to wonder. He wanted her to climb up. She did.

Despite the fact that she was nearing exhaustion (without any web-swinging abilities, she had to do a lot more work to get around), Fantasma still crawled at a fast pace. But her arms and legs felt like lead. She hadn't had done anything this taxing in a long time.

The wall seemed to stretch up and up above her. And C-Cat was always there, grinning. As usual, when she reached the top, he had already gone. The high wall she was balancing easily on was over two feet thick and ran in a square.

Looking down, Fantasma saw nothing. No buildings, no people, just a deep earthy pit. Even the moonlight seemed hesitant to seep into it, so that there were mostly shadows and very little light.

A tremor rattled her spine. It looked just like the sort of place where someone might keep a dangerous monster. Fantasma started to back away.

An odd feeling coursed through her body like a jolt of electricity. Too late, she recognized the sensation.

Nothing warned her of the hands that appeared behind her out of nowhere. Nothing warned her of the hard shove. And nothing stopped her from tumbling forward, screaming and flailing.

Her powers had failed her utterly. They did not return as she made painful contact with the ground. With her last flicker of sight, she saw a group of shadows descend upon her.

* * *

When Fantasma came to, she was lying on her back in the bleak shadow of a stone wall. There was hard, packed earth under her hands. It took her a minute to remember what had happened.

She stared up. The darkened sky was her roof. So she was still inside the walled square, but someone must have moved her, otherwise she would still be lying on her face.

Fantasma tried to slowly sit up. It took a great deal out of her. The first thing she felt was a horrible pounding throb around her collarbone. She could barely move her head without her body protesting wildly.

Somehow, she managed to turn so that she was leaning her back against the wall. She shivered a little from cold; she felt feverish and thirsty. There were more injuries to be accounted for: a few nasty scrapes, and possibly several fractures.

Scanning the darkened area, she spotted a group of huddled figures directly across from her.

One of them must have seen her get up and came scurrying across the open courtyard. There was a kind of openness about the whole cell that made one feel as though there was a target on one's back. It was nerve-wracking.

Fantasma recognized the figure as Jake. He was wearing his dark green Mimic costume and loaded up with guns, ammunition, and other weapons she had never known the use for.

Crouching down beside her in the safety of the shadow of the wall, Mimic pressed one hand to her forehead. "You okay?" he whispered. "We saw you fall in."

She coughed hoarsely. Her throat ached for lack of water. But she croaked, "Yeah."

His face was unreadable beneath the mask. "Krystelle's not doin' so hot either. The rest of us are here."

"C-Cat?" she cried, struggling to get to her feet.

He pushed her back down gently. "No," he said, his voice very cold. "I wouldn't expect he'd hang around after what he did to us."

Fantasma closed her eyes. She wanted water, but most of all, she wanted to get C-Cat. "He betrayed us."

"I know," said Mimic. "But to whom?" He pondered this for a while. Fantasma said nothing. Her broken collarbone was aching almost beyond what was bearable now.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?" He didn't correct her for not using his nickname. Fantasma thought this was a bad sign.

"Are your powers gone too?"

Mimic suddenly looked worried. "You – you don't have yours anymore either?" She shook her head painfully. "This is not good. We were kind of hoping…never mind, but everybody else has lost theirs too."

Fantasma felt even more ill than before. So somebody was controlling their powers. How? Why? For the first time, she noticed a lonely little figure huddling by itself in one of the dark corners. "Who's that?"

Mimic turned and looked. "We're not sure exactly. I mean, we don't know her real name. She's very determined not to say. But she goes by Spider-Girl."

Fantasma choked and fell into a loud coughing fit. She couldn't believe it! It had to be May, who else would go by a name with such obvious affiliation with Spider-Man? What was her sister doing here?

The noise echoed around the courtyard. Mimic quickly tried to calm her down. She wasn't sure if it was because he was concerned about her or that the noise frightened him. It was so lonesome here.

Soon after she had settled down, the ground below her began to shake. There was a hollow scraping sound all around them. Fantasma heard Krystelle screech from the other side of the courtyard.

She wrapped her arms around Mimic unconsciously. "What's happening?" she shouted over the clamor.

He didn't answer, or if he did, she wouldn't have heard him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her sister moving away from the wall and wobbling uncertainly on the shuddering ground.

It took her a while to realize what was going on. A large slab of the floor had dropped below the ground and was sliding back. The sound and rumbling were coming from stone grinding against stone.

She hugged Mimic tighter in fear. He was hugging her back, but neither of them noticed. Their eyes were glued to that gaping mouth opening up before them.

There was something bad about that hole, something evil. Her dry throat constricted, and she became short of breath. A tinge of almost madness overtook her, an animal instinct telling her to get away. Whatever happened, she knew that she did _not_ want to go in there.

"Please no," she whispered.

The stone finally stopped its interminable motion with a final booming thud. The sound echoed once and all was still.

Fantasma remembered to breathe again. Self-conscious (or perhaps just Krystelle-conscious), she pulled away from Mimic and stared at the Hole.

For what seemed like forever, nothing happened. Then there were footsteps; loud, marching feet, footsteps of those that had nothing to fear.

A uniformed man stepped smartly out of the Hole. Another followed him. Before long, there was a small army of men standing there, all armed to the teeth with sophisticated weaponry.

Fantasma knew better than to guess that they belonged to any legal organization.

She and Mimic sat against the wall, quite still, willing themselves to be invisible. Fantasma was trying without success to use her powers. Several men looked at her as they exited the Hole.

The first man, he appeared to be the leader, gave a few terse orders, and the men split off into three groups. As she had feared, one of the groups was coming for her and Mimic.

"Get up," a man barked. He motioned with his gun. Five more men stood behind him.

Fantasma stared at him defiantly. "No."

Something about his uniform was bugging her. It looked familiar. A memory at the back of her mind was struggling to come to the surface.

"Come on, Nik, they have guns," Mimic breathed in her ear as he got to his feet. "You have guns too," she said. He just shook his head and took her hands, pulling her up

Fantasma cried out as the pain in her collarbone doubled. Tears rushed to her eyes. She nearly sat back down, and probably would have, if one of the soldiers hadn't grabbed her good shoulder and steadied her.

"Let's go," said the leader, and they were led back toward that hideous Hole. Mimic was taken first, after handing over his arsenal, and she followed the two men who took him. The staircase was narrow, so they had to go single file.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thorn and Krystelle and Spider-Girl being led also. It occurred to her that Spider-Girl must have lost her powers too if she was letting them take her so easily.

Down, down, down they went until Fantasma felt that they must have been descending into the very bowels of the Earth. At last, they hit level ground.

Through blurry eyes, she noted that the ground had leveled out, and that they had hit a dimly lit corridor. It was wide enough for two to walk abreast. By this time, Fantasma was not doing well at all. She felt nauseous and faint. She staggered badly.

A guard, the same one who had grabbed her shoulder, quickly stepped in and took her good arm. Leaning heavily on him, fading in and out of fevered sleep, Fantasma walked. And walked, and walked.

She was mostly unaware when they reached a large chamber. All Fantasma wanted was a long drink and sleep. She could have cared less about the decrepit old man in the throne at the far end of the room.

"Bring them to me," croaked the ancient voice of the man on the throne.

Fantasma felt her feet slide across the smooth marble as the guard practically carried her forward. She let her head hang down. She didn't care about what happened to her anymore. The pain in her collarbone had become so powerful that it had passed beyond what her nerves could handle. She barely felt it now.

"What do we have here?" rasped the old man. Despite his scratchy voice, Fantasma could hear distinct disdain. "A woman and four children? And one of them about ready to collapse?"

Fantasma felt herself beginning to lapse into that sweet relief that is unconsciousness. The voice started to fade.

"This is a shame. I expected more of you, Anderby."

_Jake's last name is Anderby…Why is he talking to Jake?_

"I have offered you my own son, Sir," said a sniveling voice to her right.

Her head snapped up. She knew that voice!

"You're crazy!" shouted Mimic in horror. "What do you think you're doing? Let me go!"

A scuffle broke out between him and the guards out of her line of sight. Fantasma craned her neck around the guard holding her – a very painful motion – and gawked stupidly at Veron Odrade.

He was on one knee, head bowed before the feeble old man. He didn't look at any of them.

_His son…Anderby…Jacob Anderby…_ Her quick brain was making connections. Odrade was Jake's dad!

The old man spoke, ignoring the wrestling match going on before him. "Gerald Anderby, you promised me great profit from your endeavor. But instead, you have sent me little of your earnings, keeping most of it for your own personal gain!"

Odrade whimpered fearfully. Fantasma didn't feel the slightest pity for him. This was the one whose pockets they had been lining – this ancient man with more wealth and willing slaves than he knew what to do with? Her stomach twisted with disgust.

"I am sorry, great Groak."

"You should be," mumbled Groak wearily. This short scene seemed to have exhausted him. "I know that it has been two years since we last talked face-to-face…that is a long time to not be in contact…I suppose I must give you the benefit of the doubt. You were only training these mutants to get them ready for me."

Odrade nodded his head fervently. "Yes, sir! Yes, sir! That's exactly what it was."

Fantasma thought it was the most pathetic sight she had ever seen. She tried to see Mimic; he was on the other side of her, further down the line, but there were too many guards in the way.

A sharp _crack_ few seconds later and the subdued silence told her that he had been knocked out. Her stomach turned.

For the first time, Groak seemed to fully notice them. He sat up a little straighter. "Have you killed him?" he asked sharply.

Fantasma's heart jumped to her throat. She was able to get a glimpse of Mimic's limp form lying on the ground at the feet of four soldiers. One of them gave him a dull kick. _Cowards_, she thought, viciously.

"No, milord, still alive."

"Good," rasped Groak, sliding back onto his stone throne once again, "because the next person who harms one of these mutants will meet the same fate as our dearly-departed friend Johansson."

Fantasma wasn't sure whether to feel protected or terribly scared. She could sense the tangible shudder that rippled down all the backs of the guards. No one spoke.

"Take them to the holding cells," ordered Groak jadedly.

Her guard started to turn around, dragging her a little less gracefully than before. He was apparently tired of holding her up.

"And take this useless lump, Gerald Anderby, too."

"What?" cried Odrade, dropping all pretense and scrambling to his feet. "Why?" He looked wildly about in fright as a group of shadowy guards converged on him. "But I did everything you said!" he said, his voice rising in pitch.

He even had the nerve to look in the direction of his once faithful followers. "I even gave you my son! No!" For the soldiers had grabbed his arms and were pinning them behind his back.

Fantasma, certain that all was lost and that she wouldn't be able to stand the constant stabbing pain in her shoulder much longer, let herself be carried away without a struggle.

In the background, she could hear Spider-Girl and Thorn trying to fight. Krystelle appeared to have gone limp with despair. She was being led, a numb, disbelieving look in her eyes. All seemed to be lost.

The guard carrying Mimic led the line back into the hallway. Suddenly he cursed and dropped the costumed teenager. He clutched his nose, howling in pain as blood leaked between his fingers.

Mimic sprang to his feet. Yanking the guard's gun from its holster, he began firing haphazardly into the air and yelling incoherently, creating absolute chaos.


	19. Regroup, Recover…Return?

Okay, here it is! The long awaited second-to-last chapter in the saga of Nikki's life as a runaway. First, I must apologize to everyone for the looong time you all had to wait for it. But I hope it was worth the wait. A couple quick notes to everyone: First, please leave a signed review so I can reply to it! I feel bad about not being able to reply to a kind, thought-out review! Second, you might want to glance at the end of chapter 1, chapter 10, and the beginning of 11, because some pretty important references back to those are made. The end of chapter 12 is also mentioned.

That should be everything. Once again, thanks to everyone for their fabulous reviews and to those who reminded me to finish this up!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Regroup, Recover…Return?**

The noise and sounds of whizzing bullets turned everything into bedlam. People were everywhere, shooting, screaming, and fighting.

Taking her cue from Mimic, Fantasma jerked her arm free of the stunned guard and sank her knuckles into his forehead. He flew backward into an oncoming soldier.

It took a moment to register that her powers had returned. She made full use of them, spinning about, kicking, punching with all her might, and ghosting whenever she needed to. Every so often, she had to hit the deck as a shining metallic cord sailed over her head flinging a terrified soldier into the wall.

Crystal shards gleamed in the oily light as they spun viciously through the air, embedding themselves in walls and bodies. Fantasma very nearly took one to the side. Spider-Girl was webbing up villains left and right.

Very gradually, Fantasma began to notice that there were more guards than before. Reinforcements were coming. She doubted that they could fight off all of Groak's army, even as mutants.

Just as she drew back her arm for a punch, the soldier before her gasped and crumpled over dead. Fantasma froze, her arm still cocked. "Huh…?"

As he fell to the ground, another guard behind him was revealed, holding a smoking gun. They stared at each other. Then the guard turned away and ran back into the fray.

Fantasma dropped her arm. Stepping back, her gaze swept around the room taking it all in. The soldiers were fighting among themselves. She wasn't sure who had started it, but because they couldn't tell who was fighting the mutants and who was mutinying, it had become every man for himself.

Mimic's voice spoke beside her. He wasn't there; he was using his powers. "_Nikki, get over here!_"

She turned and saw him standing with the rest of their group in the entrance to the hallway. They waved. "_Come on!_" Mimic's voice said again.

Fantasma started to sprint towards them when she realized something: Spider-Girl was not there. She slowed to a halt, her eyes searching the room.

She finally saw Spider-Girl standing in the midst of a cluster of soldiers, all of them trying unsuccessfully to take her down. Spider-Girl was fighting admirably, but the strenuous demands of this continuous battle were wearing her out. She had also suffered a few fairly serious injuries from the fall into the courtyard.

She was slowing; Fantasma could see that she was favoring her left leg. Sooner or later, some stray bullet would be too fast for her.

Fantasma stood uncertainly, torn between the desire to get out of there and the unwillingness to leave her sister for dead. The two fought inside her head.

_She's my sister._

She doesn't matter anymore.

_She's family!_

That group standing in the hallway is your family now.

_I can't just leave her. She'll die._

If you go back for her, you'll probably die too.

_But she's my sister!_

She's part of your old life now.

_I'm not leaving her!_

Fantasma ran forward, ignoring Mimic's loud protests ringing in her ears. "_What are you doing? You're gonna get killed!_"

She plunged headlong into the crowd, ghosting through any obstacle. She didn't take the time to fight. Reaching Spider-Girl, she grabbed her startled sister's arm and hauled her back through the bewildered guards. Spider-Girl allowed her to lead; she seemed just as astounded as the soldiers around them.

Unfortunately, by making a nice straight path in and out, and taking their quarry with her, Fantasma was leading a whole troop of soldiers back towards her friends. Krystelle looked horrified.

"You are an idiot, Fantasma!" she shouted.

Fantasma pushed past her roughly. "Run!"

Thorn and Krystelle didn't need to be told twice. They bolted after her. Spider-Girl twitched her arm out of Fantasma's fist and started web-swinging ahead of them all.

It took Fantasma a few seconds to realize that Mimic had not followed them.

She screeched to a halt. "Mimic?"

He stood a few feet back from the chamber entrance, unmoving. His back was to her.

"Mimic?" she asked again. She glanced nervously in the direction of her fleeing companions.

Krystelle's white-blonde braid bounced and swayed behind her, shimmering like a brilliant dagger in the dim lighting. But Thorn's ebony costume blended into the dark like camouflage in the woods. If they lost each other, it would be nigh impossible to find everyone again.

Fantasma looked at the guards who were still rushing out of the throne room toward Mimic.

A thunder of footsteps pounded up behind her. She half turned, expecting to see Thorn and her sister rushing up to fight.

It wasn't them.

A herd of at least twenty soldiers were flying straight at her. "Mimic!" she shrieked. Then, throwing caution to the wind, "Jake, get over here _now_!"

He finally turned around and began walking calmly toward her. He was smiling.

She was not.

"What are you so happy about?" she snapped – or at least she started to. She was only about halfway through speaking when the soldiers were upon her.

They shoved her roughly into the wall, pushing her out of the way as though they barely noticed her. Fantasma clung to the slimy stone, watching incredulously.

The guards in the throne room hesitated as the newcomers streamed out of the hallway. Several of them called out. Most were backing away uneasily, very aware of the brawl still going on behind them.

The two groups finally met. They eyed each other tensely for a moment. Then a guard in the throne room lost his head and fired at the reinforcements. Immediately, people were shooting and shouting stridently.

Still a little dumbfounded, Fantasma managed to regain her wits as Mimic seized her hand. They pelted together down the long corridor, heedless of the noise behind them, intent on getting out of the crossfire.

After a few minutes, they slowed to a walk.

Panting, Mimic turned a broad grin on her. "How was that for a daring escape?"

Fantasma shook her head. She wasn't sure what to say to him. A thousand different thoughts strove to break free from her lips, twisting her words up so that she said nothing for a while.

At last, she decided on, "How on earth did that happen? Why didn't they shoot me? Why'd they start fighting each other?"

"Whoa, slow down."

"No," she said. She could feel the color rising in her chalk-white cheeks. "Answer me."

Mimic's grin had faded a little. Fantasma couldn't help feeling a little disgusted with him. Her second wind had passed, and now she was left even more sickly and weak.

He caught her arm gently as she started to sway. "Alright, maybe I do owe you a little bit of an explanation."

Fanatasma nodded grimly. Her vision was swimming. "Do you know why we lost our powers? Was it that Groak guy?"

The question seemed to catch him off-guard a bit, but then he shrugged and said smoothly, "Of course it was. He's obviously a mutant of some sort. He can apparently make others lose their powers."

"How can you be so sure it was him?"

"Because we got our powers back when I distracted him, and then he got knocked out by Krystelle."

Fantasma was leaning heavily on him now. They walked in silence a while longer. "I wish…I wish it hadn't been C-Cat. Somehow, I can't hate him."

Mimic looked at her severely. "He's Groak's son."

"You sure seem to know an awful lot about this Groak person," Fantasma mumbled. Learning this made her angry for some reason. She staggered and almost fell. Mimic helped her regain her balance.

"I heard one of the guards talking about it," he replied vaguely. His thoughts had clearly turned elsewhere.

Fantasma had one more pressing question she was dying to ask, but she kept forgetting it. It repeatedly slipped through her fingers like oil; just when she thought she had it, it eluded her.

As the dark ends of her vision drew together from either side, she whispered, "Where did those other soldiers come from, Jake?" and completely collapsed.

By time she had revived enough to walk farther she had forgotten the question entirely.

Mimic said nothing. He remained quiet and subdued until they came upon the rest of their group. Thorn and Krystelle were in the middle of a furious debate about whether or not to go back for them. Fantasma wondered cynically which one had been all gung ho for leaving them behind.

Spider-Girl was leaning composedly against the wall, waiting for them to finish. She _appeared_ calm. It was impossible to tell beneath the mask. She straightened when she saw them approach, her bright white eye patches fixed unblinkingly upon them.

"You're back."

Thorn looked up irritably. "What took you so long?"

"Just saving your skin," said Mimic nobly. He grinned at Krystelle and gave her a huge wink. Krystelle observed Fantasma icily. Fantasma didn't say anything, but couldn't ignore the boiling sensation in her chest.

Spider-Girl apparently sensed the tension between the group members. "You said you knew how to get out of here?" This was directed at Thorn.

Thorn nodded stiffly. "Follow me."

The four of them did so without speaking. Fantasma's stomach gave an acrid twist as she noticed Mimic fall in step with Krystelle.

No one questioned how Thorn knew her way around the labyrinth of hallways; she said only that she had been there before.

_More than once_, thought Fantasma, but knew better than to say anything. Her collarbone had begun throbbing with a fresh vigor.

After what seemed like hours, she led them up a steep incline - on which more than one of them nearly lost their footing - and out through a small trapdoor in the ceiling.

They found themselves on the outskirts of New York City.

Spider-Girl seemed eager to making her exit but stayed long enough to trade a few words with her rescuers (whom, she was under the impression, were as innocent of the whole thing as she was).

"Thank you," she began. Then, realizing how lame that sounded, she continued, "I never would have had a prayer of making it out of there without you guys. Especially you." She looked steadily at Fantasma.

The group murmured an awkward, "You're welcome," and acted just as keen to see the back of her.

Fantasma, more than any of them, had reason to wish her sister gone. Her emotions were a little uncertain and tangled at the moment. She wasn't sure if she wanted to send Spider-Girl away without a word or run forward, throw her arms around her younger sister, and burst into tears.

As a sort of compromise, she did neither. Instead, she let Mimic do the talking.

"Listen, we're real sorry you got all mixed up in this," he said. "I'm glad you're not too much the worse for the wear. But, noting both our humble profession and yours, I have to say that I hope we never see you again."

Fantasma thought that a fine speech to end on, but her sister didn't agree.

"Wait, I see it now," she said, the dawning of realization in her voice. She had been turning to leave, but now she faced them straight on.

"Oh, boy," said Krystelle under her breath.

Spider-Girl either didn't hear her or was so excited that she paid no attention. "You guys are that group of costumed thieves that have been robbing banks all over the east coast! There're even rumors about you making appearances in Europe."

Mimic bowed modestly. "At your service. Although our reputation precedes us a bit much, if people think we've been to Europe."

_Where did he learn to talk like that?_ Fantasma wondered.

Spider-Girl didn't appear to be at all fazed by the news that they had not yet traveled overseas. She was practically bouncing on her toes with enthusiasm. "Da – I mean, Spider-Man's been talking about you a lot. He thinks there's something important about you guys that he needs to know."

Fantasma had raised an eyebrow at the slip-up. She casually studied her fellow team members' faces to see if they had noticed it. She was completely positive now that Spider-Girl was her sister. Her only doubt was whether or not the slip had been intentional.

Thorn shifted her weight from one foot to the other restlessly.

Mimic shrugged amiably. "I don't know why. We're pretty low on the radar compared to what he usually fights, right?"

Fantasma could envision her sister's eyes shining. She shook her head fervently. "Not after what I saw you guys doing back in that cavern." Her voice darkened. "What did they mean about 'getting us ready?' Who do you think that creepy old man was?" She glanced in Fantasma's direction.

Before Mimic could invent some response, Thorn stepped forward. "We should not linger here too long." She motioned them to begin moving away. "They will be looking for us as soon as they reorganize themselves."

She started to lead the group away, leaving Spider-Girl standing alone.

Fantasma trailed slightly behind. Looking back, she saw her sister watching them leave. Her posture, the only indication as to what she was thinking, was slumped; her shoulders were rounded forlornly. She looked very small and lonely.

Fantasma had a sudden recollection from years ago: inexpertly comforting her sister after a fall on the playground.

She raised a purple gloved hand in farewell. Spider-Girl didn't move.

Fantasma turned back to her group and started walking. She hesitated for one more backward glance, but the shadowy street was empty.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Krystelle looked around the dark city apprehensively. "Why aren't we going home?" She hugged herself, shivered, and cast Fantasma an acerbic glance. "I just want to go home."

Mimic was carrying Fantasma; she had since ceased to be able to walk. She lay in a fevered sleep in his arms. Krystelle was wishing viciously that they had just left her behind.

Thorn kept walking. She'd been leading the fatigued group for miles through winding alleyways and down lamp-lit streets. It was dreary going.

"We're not going back to the food mart," she answered calmly.

"What?" Mimic's hanging head snapped up. He took a couple quick steps to catch up to her. "What do you mean we're not going back there? That's our home! That's the only home I've ever known!" His voice started to crescendo. "All our stuff and our money and our clothes and our – "

"Shut up!" Thorn whirled around, eyes blazing, and cut him off. "You are a fool, and you don't have any idea what you're talking about!"

Mimic stared at her.

"The instant we set foot in that store, Groak would have an army surrounding the place. Believe me when I say that he has been watching you all for a long time." Taking a breath, she said more serenely, "We are going to a safe place where we can regroup and decide on our next plan of action."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. Everyone seemed stunned at Thorn's outburst, most of all Mimic.

At last, they arrived at the steps of a broken down motel. The VACANCY sign blinked with ominous irregularity. Every part of it looked dingy and unused.

Krystelle eyed the place with distaste. She hugged herself tighter. "This is the bad side of town, Thorn," she said, stating the obvious. "Do we have to stay _here_?"

Thorn ignored her. She led the subdued group inside and up to the front desk. A shady-looking man sat behind it. A cigar hung out of the side of his mouth, as though he had forgotten it was there.

"Whadaya want?" he snapped at her.

Krystelle edged behind Mimic. She didn't like the way the man was looking at her. She cast an anxious glance at Thorn. They both were wondering why Thorn would be so bold as to lead them around in public in their costumes.

"I want to book two rooms," Thorn replied, whipping out a wad of cash.

The man took his time in taking in the odd sight of his ragtag customers. "Fine," he mumbled, the cigar waggling around. Mimic was amazed that he didn't drop it.

Thorn accepted the grimy keys that the man slid across the desk to her, paid, and led them outside to find their rooms.

Mimic was strong, but Fantasma was getting awfully heavy to carry for so long. He shifted her in his arms, and she murmured something in her sleep. He gazed down at her apologetically. Her shoulder had swelled visibly by now. It looked very painful.

Thorn showed them their rooms. Mimic had one to himself, while the girls would be sharing the other.

Neither of them really cared at this point. They both just wanted to crash. Mimic laid Fantasma down on her bed with great care.

"I'll take her," said Thorn suddenly. She gathered the unconscious girl up in her arms. She started toward the door.

"Take her where?" asked Mimic in alarm, following. Allie had already taken off her mask and boots and collapsed on her bed.

"Somewhere she can get medical attention."

Jake took his mask off. He didn't like the sound of that. He'd never trusted Thorn much farther than he could throw her, and right now, that trust had been about stretched to its limit.

"Idiot!" she hissed at him, motioning for him to put his mask back on. He obeyed. "No one can see you without it now, unless you are in normal clothes."

Mimic scowled. "In case you've forgotten already, I don't _have_ any clothes anymore!"

"I'll get some."

"Right," said Mimic, sarcasm dripping from his words like venom. "And you'll wave your magic wand and heal Nikki, and make everything all right again."

Thorn looked around distractedly, shrugging off his biting words. "Something like that. Now go to your room, get some sleep, and for goodness sake, don't forget to lock the door!"

* * *

The next few days were a confused and blurry mess of sounds and images for Nikki. She spent most of it fading in and out of consciousness. She was aware of being in an unfamiliar bed, of blinding lights, of strangers talking to her.

Sometimes the pain in her shoulder was so unbearable, Nikki would wake up screaming and writhing. Other times, she was in a blissful state of oblivion.

When she began to recover, Nikki was cared for by Thorn, who observed her with placid tranquility. She learned that she had been moved from the motel to a mysterious hospital that Thorn wouldn't elaborate on. She was also informed that she had had surgery on her collarbone.

Thorn said, "You were so drugged up with morphine, you won't remember any of it."

"Who paid for _that_?" Nikki asked weakly. Allie had filled her in on the recent developments, namely, losing their home. Allie was still incredibly bitter toward C-Cat.

"It doesn't matter," Thorn told her. "What matters is that Jake wants to have a meeting as soon as you've recovered."

Nikki lay back. Her good arm drifted lightly over her forehead, pushing back a lock of oily hair. She hadn't had a decent bath yet. "I think it's gonna be a while before I'm up and about again."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," said Thorn cryptically. "The doctors said you have made a miraculous recovery so far. They said they hadn't seen anything quite like it before."

"What doctors?"

"It doesn't matter. Just get better quickly." Thorn got up and took her leave.

Nikki closed her eyes. She was almost asleep when she heard someone walking over to sit in the chair by her bed. "What now, Thorn?" she mumbled sleepily.

"It's me, Nik."

Nikki's eyes snapped open. She found herself staring up at Jake. He grinned roguishly at her. "Our military commander didn't want me bothering you yet, but I heard you guys talking and had to come in. How's the collarbone?"

She felt horrible self-conscious of her unwashed hair and plain face. She tried to finger-comb her messy curls. She desperately wished he could have at least waited to see her until after she had had a shower and brushed her teeth – and maybe even put on some makeup!

"Hey," he said gently, staying her hand. His green eyes met hers. "I'm done with shallow perfection."

Nikki gaped at him. "What?"

"Allie and I broke up a couple of days ago."

"Oh." Nikki couldn't think of anything to say. She supposed that she should look appropriately solemn at this news, but her insides where flipping around in a wild dance of celebration. She felt that she could almost leap right out of bed. _Yes!_

"Yeah," he said, looking away. "It was just getting too tense."

Nikki thought of all the times that she had heard them arguing in the last few days. And she'd seen the way Allie looked at her; that penetrating stare of hers that could wake the dead or create more.

"That's…that's too bad," she finally said.

Suddenly, their dreary circumstances didn't seem quite that bad. The sun had come out.

* * *

Soft swirls of colors…voices…familiar faces; they all melted in and out of her dream world. Nikki was basking in that wonderful void of sleep. No unresolved problems haunted her here.

One vivid dream melted into another, each completely unrelated, yet their disorganization was somehow logical to her subconscious mind.

Then a faint sound broke into her dreams. She rolled over, pushing it from her thoughts.

It came again, this time more clearly. It was…a laugh. An innocent giggle.

Nikki murmured in her sleep. Then, completely out of the blue, everything snapped into place, almost as though that one last puzzle piece had finally been fitted together.

She sat up with a cry. "C-Cat!"

Nikki found herself blinking in the dim light from the cracked motel lamp. She pulled the sheets up to her chin, still a little disoriented. She looked across to Allie.

Allie was sitting up too. Her eyes were red and puffy; she had been crying quietly. A piece of newsprint was balled up in her lap. Nikki's shout had startled her. The two girls made eye-contact for a very brief, very uncomfortable moment.

"That little traitor wouldn't dare come back now," Allie said at last with biting disdain. She sniffed so viciously that it sounded more like a snarl. Then she hurled the paper into the garbage at the other end of the room. (It wasn't that much of a feat; the room was very small.)

She rolled over to face the wall - rather than Nikki - and snapped off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

Nikki remained awake for a while longer. She couldn't shake the feeling that what had awoken her wasn't just a bad dream.

* * *

Two weeks later, they all gathered in Jake's room for the Big Meeting. Nikki had heard them talking about it for what seemed like forever.

She'd been out of bed for most of the last two weeks, but the sling had only just come off her arm yesterday. Like Thorn had anticipated, she had made a miraculous recovery.

Jake was sitting in a rickety chair, eyeing the group seriously. They watched him with grave faces. This was the moment when they would finally decide their future.

Nikki didn't want to be the first to speak, but she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Jake jumped in first. "I know we've all been through a lot, but I hate to see us abandon each other. I mean, we're practically a family now, right?"

"Yep, one big happy family," Allie grumbled.

Jake ignored her. "So what do we do? We can't live here forever, and we don't have any cash saved up. It's still at the food mart. Or it was. Groak's probably cleared it out by now. What do we live on? I know most of us don't have any other home to go back to."

Nikki felt a twinge of guilt. Here she was; all ready to call the whole team off and split up. It _had_ been her original intention, after all. But Allie and Jake were completely homeless.

Thorn said nothing. Nikki almost wished she would. She was the one funding everything now.

Jake turned to the only adult in their group. He appeared to be thinking along the same lines. "Well? What do you think, Thorn? You're the one with the money."

"Yeah," Allie interjected, true to her snippy attitude. It was something she had recently acquired. Nikki guessed that it probably had something to do with the break-up. "Why don't you share with us how you have a bottomless pocketbook, while the rest of us were never paid a cent?"

Thorn regarded Allie's sneer coolly. "He had to pay me to keep me. End of story."

Allie dropped her eyes and mumbled an inaudible response.

Jake looked back and forth between the two. He rolled his eyes. "So, now that we have that straightened out, what's next? We're all basically unemployed; what do we do?"

No one had any suggestions.

"I don't know about you all, but I'd personally like to retire on a little more than this." He motioned around the shabby bedroom. "No offense, Thorn," he added quickly, since she was paying.

She shrugged it off.

Surprisingly, Allie had begun watching him with a keen stare.

Jake started in on an obviously rehearsed speech. He gesticulated ardently. "Somehow, it would seem like we were letting Groak win - letting him destroy us – if we just abandoned each other and disappeared off the radar. Kinda like a couple puppies with their tails between their legs." He obviously felt very strongly about what he was saying.

Nikki didn't agree with him.

"Wouldn't you all like to have something to show for the _years_ we spent together?" he implored.

"I want to know what Thorn is planning," Nikki intoned, breaking her silence for the first time.

Her admiration for the older woman had grown. It was almost like having a parent-figure again, except…not. Thorn was _not_ the kind of person to ever get close enough to be a mentor, even in the most distant sense.

The trio watched the taciturn woman observantly.

She didn't say anything, just sat there stiffly.

"Thorn, please do enlighten us," Jake encouraged with a trace of exasperation.

She hesitated. "I'm staying with this little group, as long as it is my responsibility to watch out for your sorry behinds."

A flash of fire darted across Jake's face. He did _not_ appreciate needing anyone to watch out for him. And he didn't like her tone of voice. "Just _who_ gave you that responsibility?" he demanded hotly, leaping to his feet.

His expression reminded Nikki of her first impression of him: potentially dangerous. It frightened her. She'd never seen him look at anyone in their team like that before. Except maybe Odrade when he was refusing to pay them. _Odrade deserved it_, she thought sourly.

Thorn returned his fearsome gaze evenly, unmoving. She was a very tall woman. Her unnaturally straight black hair hung stiffly against her ramrod-like spine.

Without warning, Allie jumped up. "I know what to do!"

Everyone looked at her.

"The X-Mansion. It's perfect! I used to live there, remember? So I can get us in, and get us to their safe, and get us out completely unnoticed. It'll be cake," Allie finished confidently.

Despite her pretense of having just thought of the idea, Nikki knew better. In fact, the acting rather reminded Nikki of something out of a bad movie.

Jake was speechless. For once.

Allie glided over to Jake and looked up at him with that adoring gaze that would have melted his heart once upon a time. Once upon a time. And that time was long gone.

He looked hard at her. Briefly, he seemed to actually consider her idea. Then he shrugged it off and sat down again to put more space in between them. "No," he declared, as though he was pronouncing judgment on some court case, purposely turning his attention on Nikki. "It's too risky."

Allie glowered mutely. She was irate at having her suggestion scorned, and Jake paying attention to Nikki added insult to injury. Nikki braced herself for the imminent explosion.

It never came.

For what Nikki marked as the first time, Allie backed off, sat down again and remained subdued for the rest of the meeting.

The Big Meeting itself didn't live up to its name. Jake called a close, despite the strong disagreement he still had with Thorn.

"I need money, Thorn," he almost pleaded. His temper had cooled off significantly. "You've got a big name in our world. You could get work just about anywhere you tried."

"That's because I'm _good_," replied Thorn matter-of-factly.

Jake waved her interruption away impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. So you see my point. We've still gotta work our way up in the world. Maybe hitting the X-Mansion wouldn't be such a bad thing after all," he mused.

"No."

"No?" Jake stared at her incredulously. Since when did she say no to a job?

Thorn repeated, "No. You were right the first time. It's a foolish endeavor that would hurt you even more than C-Cat's betrayal."

A palpable cloud of tension erupted in the room at her mention of C-Cat.

"I'm leaving," said Allie, and did so.

Nobody questioned her. Jake and Thorn continued to argue; his face reddening angrily, while she kept her cool.

Nikki was bored. They weren't getting anywhere. She got to her feet and announced that she was going back to her room. Neither one acknowledged her.

A little ticked off; she ghosted through the wall back into the dingy room she shared with Allie. She didn't expect the atmosphere here to be any better.

But Allie wasn't there.

"Allie?" she called uncertainly, checking the bathroom to make sure she wasn't taking a shower. It was empty.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop rapidly. Nikki shivered. "Allie, if you're hiding, that's totally juvenile. It's not a big deal that they blew off your plan…"

Her eyes caught something. She gasped. The floor suddenly swayed below her feet and the room spun. She had to sit down. Her stomach lurched nauseously.

"Allie, what have you done?" she groaned.

The closet, where Allie's dark blue costume usually hung, was empty.

* * *

"You're sure she's here, right, Fantasma?" Mimic hissed across to his teammate.

She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. "Oh yeah. She's here."

Thorn leaned forward, around a bush, and took in the giant mansion that loomed over the wall; the wall that was keeping them out. "How do we get in?"

Mimic grinned. "I can handle that, no problem. But it's gonna take some serious sneaking around. And who knows where to even start looking for her?"

Fantasma ground her teeth. All this stupid trouble they were going to – just to rescue some girl who probably didn't even want to be found!

"What if she came back here for good?" she asked.

The other two looked at her.

"You know," she babbled, her cheeks starting to burn. It had sounded so much more reasonable in her head… "Like maybe she was leaving us. Maybe she quit."

Mimic shook his head and cut her off. "Nope, that's not like Allie." His face darkened. "She can't leave."

"Krystelle," corrected Thorn.

"Whatever. She came back here for a reason. In all likelihood, she's just trying to prove to us that her idea was a good one." He looked at Fantasma. "You know, her mom's in jail, her dad was murdered. She's probably got a lot to prove to herself."

"Oh, no." Fantasma's eyes widened. "Oh, no," she repeated. "Those people who attacked back at the school, a long time ago, back when I first met you guys – remember when I went to check out Dr. Camdon's office after he'd been murdered? The guy who's responsible for my powers?" She waited for them to catch up. "Okay. Now, the soldier who shot me, he was wearing the same uniform as Groak's army!"

Thorn bobbed her head. "I know" was all she said.

"What?"

"When I took that guy down and saved you and Krystelle, I recognized their uniforms."

Fantasma felt lost. "So why didn't you tell me? Why'd they shoot me?"

"Remember when Groak talked of locking you all up?"

She nodded.

Thorn continued. "He was ready to collect way back then. They were trying to get their hands on you almost two years ago."

"But they knew Odrade…they could have just stormed the place, grabbed us all, and – " Fantasma was just beginning to realize the danger she had been living in for the past two years. It was sickening.

"They didn't want the others yet. They just wanted you."

Fantasma gave her a blank look. "What? Why?"

"Groak set you up, okay?" Thorn was getting agitated at having to keep talking. They were entering territory she evidently didn't want to revisit.

Mimic hadn't said a word.

"Wha – "

Thorn's voice rose slightly in volume. "Don't you get it? They've known who you were all your life! They've known what you might become, and they wanted to take advantage of it."

Fantasma felt her stomach turning uncomfortable somersaults.

Thorn pressed onward. "Kids in your class – that cute partner of yours who couldn't help with your science project, the ones who kept you talking – they were all paid! Paid to keep you distracted. Camdon was kept out of the room until you'd been infected; the bottles of the substance were tipped in the right direction ever so slightly; the scalpel was extra sharp. You have absolutely no idea what measures Groak took to make sure you would become what you are!"

Fantasma felt her knees growing weak. She sat down unsteadily. The world was spinning. Groak knew her? All her life? Then he must have known about her father! Did this all come back to him? Didn't it always come back to him? Peter Parker, the amazing Spider-Man.

"Unh," she moaned, grasping her head.

Mimic finally voiced the most important question. His face was bitter beneath the mask. "How do you know all this?"

The question hung in the air for a long time.

Thorn studied him. Then she replied, quite simply, "It has been my business for the last ten years to know _everything_. And that is why I'm still alive."

Mimic thought it was a lousy answer. But the intense look that passed between them was interrupted by Fantasma vomiting onto the grass.

"Oh, man. I'm sorry, Nik." Mimic patted her back awkwardly, trying not to look too grossed out, and Thorn resumed her vigil of the mansion.

"We can't take her like that," said Thorn while Fantasma wiped her mouth with a handful of leaves. "She'll have to wait for us."

"Did you want her to totally fall apart like that?" Mimic demanded, seething.

She shook her head. "I had no idea how she'd take it. And she was the one who asked the questions. I'm just the bearer of bad news." She noticed him unconsciously fingering one of his guns. She said more quietly, "Don't shoot the messenger."

Mimic yanked his hand away like it had been burned. He stared at the holster on his hip. Then, to draw attention away from it, he offered Fantasma his water bottle. She was a little too dazed to take it, so he pressed it into her hand.

After Fantasma had recovered enough to be left alone, Mimic and Thorn started walking very directly toward the front gate.

She sat in the shadow of the trees, sucking on the water bottle in an attempt to get the nasty taste out of her mouth, and watched the whole scene play itself out.

The thoughts in her head kept whirling 'round and 'round until it made her dizzy. She remembered a book she'd read once, in which a character could siphon out his thoughts… It sounded terribly appealing right now.

Fantasma couldn't hear what was going on, but she realized what at least part of Mimic's plan was. He spoke into the intercom. He was presumably imitating a voice. But didn't that fancy mansion have a camera? Wouldn't some one realize what was happening?

Then, out of nowhere, a third person joined their group. Fantasma strained to see where he had come from. Neither Thorn nor Mimic appeared surprised to see him. Who was he? It was too dark to see.

Whatever was said apparently appeased the person on the other end of the intercom because the gates swung open. The trio walked inside.

At least, it began as a trio. But it quickly became a party of one as the mystery man who had joined them disappeared into thin air, and Thorn slipped off by herself.

The gates clanged shut behind them, closing them off from her sight.

By her watch, Fantasma could tell that they were gone for the better part of an hour. She huddled in the dark, shivering as the dew soaked through her thin costume.

"Where are they?" she said to herself.

She, of course, didn't have an answer.

A familiar voice startled her awake, though she didn't remember closing her eyes.

"_We're comin', Nik. Get ready to run._"

She jumped to her feet, peering fearfully around the branches that hid her. She was afraid of what she was going to see. Would they all make it out? Her left leg had fallen asleep; she stamped it impatiently.

Something shimmery began creeping over the gate. It slithered over; then it stiffened, leaving a long trail behind it.

Fantasma swallowed hard when she recognized the shining pink-tinted crystal. It was creating steps up and over the gate. Krystelle had been there after all.

Three people came flying pell-mell over the stairs, barely keeping their balance on the slick crystal, and stumbling onto the ground.

Krystelle lagged behind just long enough to reabsorb the stairs in a stunning rush of crystal. Then she bolted after her teammates who were already well ahead of her.

By the time lights had come on and a proper pursuit could be assembled, they were gone into the night.

* * *

Inside the X-Mansion, a small meeting was in session. They were not meeting in the usual briefing room, however, but in the infirmary.

If Nikki had been there, she would have recognized three of the five people: Cyclops, Wolverine, and Storm. They were the trio that Nikki had watched stop Spider-Man from murdering a teenage boy. Two years ago.

There were two others that she would not have recognized. Emma Frost, a stunningly beautiful woman with a revealing white outfit and a commanding presence, stood beside the bed of a pale teenage girl.

They were all looking at the girl with concern. She had some unusual features; namely, blue hair and a pair of clunky metal gauntlets that covered her hands and arms, reaching to just a little over her elbows. The least of these was that she was also of Japanese descent.

"Are you sure you're all right, Noriko?" Emma asked once more.

Noriko nodded weakly. "Yeah, I'll be fine, Miss Frost. They didn't want to hurt me."

Cyclops stepped forward. "Then why were they here? I mean, what would they gain by getting down here to you?"

The question went unanswered.

"So," Storm said, summarizing what they had been discussing for the last few minutes, "You say that our old student Allison Camdon – "

"MIA for over two years," Cyclops interjected.

"Shh, Scott," Emma told him. "Let her talk."

Storm continued. "Allison Camdon came here to see you just because she was worried about you?"

"Well, yeah." Noriko shifted slightly. Painfully. She grimaced, but kept talking. "Everybody's been worried. We were good friends though, ya know? It was nice to know she cared enough to risk so much to come see me."

"What did she tell you?" pressed Emma.

Noriko wrinkled her brow. "Not much about herself. She just wanted to hear about the attack."

"And then a woman and a boy, neither of which you've seen before," Storm said, reading off the descriptions Noriko had given, "came marching in here and demanded that she leave."

"Uh huh." Noriko bit her lip. "They were threatening her, but I didn't understand what about. The boy called her a liar and said she was no better than some cat or other." She sniffed. "He held up a piece of newspaper. I guess that's how she found out about me, and how they knew where to find her."

"I smell something fishy going on here," said Scott, frowning.

"I smell someone I've run into before," said Wolverine in his deep, feral growl. He had been sniffing out the room.

Emma looked up from Noriko in surprise. "What?"

Wolverine nodded. "You heard me. Allie's wasn't the only scent I recognized."

_Snikt!_ He extended his claws. "That boy who was here tonight was in the alley two years ago when we approached Spider-Man."

No one spoke while everyone digested the news.

Storm shook her head in wonder. "Then…"

"Yes," agreed Scott. "We've _finally _got a lead on Spider-Man's missing little girl."

"After, what? Two years?" said Emma. "She may not still be alive."

Scott put his hand on her shoulder. "Then at least we can give her family some closure."

A sharp giggle interrupted the solemn moment. Startled, Scott's hand flew to his glasses. Wolverine's claws remained out.

They found themselves staring at a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy. His clothes were in tatters. His hair looked like an unkept bird's nest. He was standing impishly in the door way, his hands on his hips and legs spaced widely apart in a very Peter Pan-ish pose.

Before anyone could question him, he spoke in one of the most disturbing voices any of them had ever heard. It was a mixture of an ancient rasp and young child's chirp.

"I know where they are," he declared. "And I can lead you to them."

"Where?" asked Storm.

"They're going to see a man called Groak."


	20. Fatal Reunion: Part I

A/N: Before everyone starts freaking out at me for this, I'd just like to say beforehand that I thought you guys would rather read this thing in two parts than in one 25-page chapter. That said, yes, this is the last chapter, but split into two parts. The second part is almost finished, so you won't have to wait months and months again for it. Give me about two weeks and it should be done.

Also, I'd like to give a little credit to Yyunesprith for picking up on an error that I had missed! Your question inspired quite a significant part of this chapter, so thanks! (To everyone who has no idea what I'm talking about, I answer the question about what happened to Nikki's cell phone.)

One last thought: Originally, May was just going to be pretty much a cameo, a nod to fans of the Spider-Girl comics. But then so many of you seemed interested in seeing more of her that I couldn't resist beefing up her role a little bit. So I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Fatal Reunion – Part I**

Peter Parker couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was too impossible.

"Mr. Parker?"

He stared out the window without seeing anything. The phone slid slowly from his ear.

"Mr. Parker? Hello? Peter?" The woman's voice on the other end sounded distant, as though she was calling to him from another decade.

In reality, it was Peter who was a world away. Nikki? Alive? He was almost too terrified to think about it.

"_Hello?_ Are you there?"

He shook his head to clear it. It took him some time to get his tongue working again. "Uh…yeah. I'm here, Emma."

"Good," she said. "Thought we'd lost you there for a minute. So how soon can you get here?"

Peter's brain had screeched to a halt at the beginning of the conversation. Now it was in overdrive. "I can be there in a few minutes," he answered, barely able to control the bubbly shivers of excitement that were flipping around in his stomach.

"All right. We'll see you then."

He reached to hang up the receiver but stopped himself. "Wait. Emma?"

"Yes?"

"I…" He hesitated. He knew that what he was about to do was completely off of a whim and a very unreliable messenger. "I need to see someone first."

The mild surprise in Emma Frost's voice was evident. "Who?"

"Tell you later. But it might take an hour or two."

There was an ear-splitting burst of childish laughter in the background. Peter leaned away from the phone. He heard Emma cover the mouthpiece to say something.

"What was that?" he said after the noise had quieted.

She sounded faintly annoyed. "It's our informant. You'll meet him presently." She paused, then, "He's writing something. He doesn't talk much," she added as an afterthought. There was another long wait.

"Oh," Emma said crisply. "Peter, we're going to have to meet you there. He says we don't have much time."

"Okaaaay." This was beginning to sound very odd. His initial swoop of hope was sagging.

"How long do you need?"

Peter did some quick calculations in his head. His mind was still a little scattered, and he had to force himself to think clearly. "Give me two hours."

"Done."

"Where will I meet you?" he inquired.

"The usual spot. You know it. We'll take it from there." She hung up.

Peter slowly returned the receiver to its cradle. He was numb; in shock. _Do I dare tell MJ? If this is just a false alarm…_ He let the thought trail off discouragingly.

She'd be crushed. MJ would be absolutely crushed, and Peter couldn't bear to quash her hopes once again. No, he decided. It would be better if she never knew about it. Just in case.

In case what? He didn't let himself think about it.

He walked quickly back to his room, completely wide-awake, as if it was the middle of the day and not 5:30 in the morning. Mary Jane was still sleeping. She hadn't heard the phone ring.

Peter bent down and gently brushed her cheek with his lips. Mary Jane, the love of his life and the most beautiful woman in the world. She stirred slightly. A small smile played at her mouth.

He kissed her again and walked into their closet to change into his costume.

* * *

A few minutes earlier, May lay in bed, alert. She was thinking. 

Thinking about Fantasma.

She hadn't told her father anything about that terrifying night several weeks ago. Yes, she had injured her leg. Coming up with an imagined explanation for _that_ had been difficult. And yes, she was still baffled by the Spider-Man copy-cat who had led her to the walled complex.

But what frightened May Parker the most was the possibility of what she might, or might not, have witnessed.

Who was Fantasma? Was the purple and black costumed thief just another mutant? Or - and this was what scared May - was she someone much more familiar?

She hadn't told her father about all this for the same reason that Peter wasn't telling his wife about the phone call from Emma Frost. She certainly didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. That would have been terrible.

The noise of the phone ringing had awoken her. May had listened to her father having a brief conversation with some Emma person. She assumed that it had to be Miss Frost. Who else would call at this time of the morning wanting to see him immediately?

She wondered who Peter was planning to meet beforehand. Sure, he knew lots of people in high places, but she found it hard to imagine him needing more help than the X-Men could give. Maybe it was really serious.

And this brought her around to why she had been thinking about Fantasma in the first place. Was this about her sister?

May nearly gasped aloud.

Of course the idea had been in the back of her mind ever since she met Fantasma. But she'd never allowed herself to actually consider it.

She heard the sounds of her father hurrying from the kitchen to his bedroom. She lay very still and closed her eyes. But she needn't have bothered. He didn't even look in.

May didn't move for a full minute, and then made a snap decision.

She yanked the covers back, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Closing her door quietly, she undressed and changed as quickly as possible. Then she stepped neatly out into the hallway.

Peter halted his long stride abruptly when he nearly ran into his daughter stepping in front of him. She was dressed in full Spider-Girl regalia. She even had her arms crossed and legs spread apart. Probably to look tough, he thought with mild amusement.

"May," he started. He was still holding his mask in his hand. "This is something I have to do alone."

May could see the terrible worry etched all through his features as he spoke. He was no good at a poker face without his mask, she decided. "No," she said. "This is something _we_ have to do _together_."

Her father bit his lip. He appeared anxious to be leaving. He kept looking past her. "Mayday, really. I've got to go. I don't have time for this."

"It wouldn't take any time if you'd just let me come with you." They were both whispering, trying to keep from waking anyone up. "She's my sister too."

Peter's face softened.

"And I think I can help you." As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Her voice had been too cocky, too I-know-something-you-don't.

Her father's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

May grimaced. She still didn't want to tell him about the incident in the underground facility. "Um, it'll take too long to explain now. How 'bout I tell you on the way?"

He seemed disinclined to agree at first, but then Ben staggered out of his room. He was wiping sleep from his eyes; his hair was matted every which way. It made him look like a disheveled miniature troll.

"Wuz goin' on?" he mumbled sleepily. He caught sight of their costumes and perked up a little bit. "Where ya goin'?"

Peter quickly steered his ten-year-old son back to his bed. "We're just getting up really early, okay? Tell Mom to call in sick for May and me. I don't know when we'll be back."

May grinned broadly.

"'Kay," Ben said, but he was already half-asleep.

"Ready?" Peter said to her, pulling his mask over his head. He glanced back toward the hallway, but saw no one. He turned around.

Spider-Girl was already perched on the sill of Ben's open window. She cocked her head at him. "Do you even need to ask?"

* * *

On the other side of the city, the exhausted group of thieves finally arrived at their dilapidated motel. 

Krystelle hadn't spoken a word the entire way home. She had walked with them to the train station and then through the dark city streets with a numb expression on her face. She appeared to be in shock.

Nobody talked much. As soon as Fantasma and Krystelle stepped into their room, Krystelle ripped off her mask and collapsed onto her bed. She didn't even take her boots off - not that it would have mattered on the filthy mattress. Fantasma could count on one hand the number of times that room service had been up in the weeks they had stayed there.

She, on the other hand, had a long, leisurely shower despite the lukewarm water and took her time getting ready for bed. After surreptitiously drying and brushing her hair, Nikki checked the clock. 5:45 AM.

It still felt like night. For her, it practically was. Since no one had anything to do, they had been staying up later and later and sleeping most of the day away. Thorn was the only one who still retained any kind of schedule.

Nikki's gaze traveled over to Allie's hunched up figure. Had she moved? Her boots were still on.

"Allie?" she said. She had no idea why she was attempting to make peace with this infuriatingly stubborn girl. But the despair in Allie's eyes as they rode the train back from the X-Mansion…

The other girl didn't reply. Nikki sighed. "Allie?" she tried again. Certain that Allie was awake, she continued anyway, "How are you feeling?"

For some unfathomable reason, this question apparently necessitated an answer. The gist of what Allie said amounted to a disgusted "What do you think?" But her voice was gravelly from crying and her words were fouled by curses.

Nikki hesitated, startled by the strong language, before making a bold move. She stepped carefully around the clothes that littered the floor and sat down on Allie's bed.

The bedraggled-looking girl finally rolled over to face her. She regarded Nikki without speaking. Her eyes were red and swollen; her hair was still damp with sweat from the adrenaline-filled retreat. At that moment, Allie was the very epitome of misery and hopelessness.

"What do you want?" she said bluntly. "Do you want to gloat about Jake? Or just give me a few more reasons why I absolutely can't leave this…?" She trailed off on a string of vulgar adjectives about the group.

Nikki tried not to wince. Allie didn't usually talk like this. What could she say? The unhappy girl was making no effort to hide her bitterness.

"I never thought he'd say what he said to me tonight," Allie said hollowly. Her flair of anger seemed to have drained away, leaving her empty.

Nikki felt uncertainty growing inside her.

"I'm trapped, Nikki," Allie whispered, horrified. "We all are. We're trapped because some maniac wanted to turn us into thieves and killers." she stopped. Her eyes became cloudy. "I don't wanna live like this anymore. I can't leave. Maybe it's too late for us. Maybe we're all going to die. Maybe we should."

Now Nikki was starting to get a little freaked out.

Staring right through her, Allie murmured. "I wanted to see Nori. She got hurt pretty bad, you know?" Nikki nodded patiently, even though she had absolutely no idea what her teammate was talking about. _I think she's lost it…_

The other girl's sorrowful words continued. "But then Jake and Thorn, they told me I had to come back or..." She pressed her fist to her mouth to stifle a sob. "After what happened to my dad…and then my mom got jailed for something she did when she was younger. What was I supposed to say?" She sniffled. "Now I know that it was Groak's fault. Everything was his fault."

Nikki's stomach turned. Everything was starting to make sense.

Allie smiled vaguely. "Nori told them off really well, even though she couldn't even get out of bed: gave Thorn what-for and called Jake a green wannabe." Her eyes widened, still seeing something that Nikki couldn't. "But Jake grabbed me, made me leave. He's very strong. And before I knew what was going on, we were running toward the outer gate, and he was screaming at me to make some kind of staircase."

Her eyes refocused and she came out of her trance-like reminiscence. It was like she was seeing Nikki for the first time. "You shouldn't trust him, you know," she said, leaning in conspiratorially. "He's such a liar."

Then she giggled: a mad sort of giggle that sent chills up Nikki's spine. Still sniggering, Allie slumped back on the bed and was instantly asleep. She was still grinning.

Shocked and unnerved, Nikki scrambled off the bed as quickly as possible. Allie _was_ losing it. She was acting flat-out crazy. Something in her had definitely snapped.

Maybe a good night's sleep would cure whatever was wrong with her, but Nikki doubted it.

Shrugging off the cobwebs of worry that brushed at her mind, she threw herself down onto her bed but instantly sprang up again with a cry of pain. Nikki rubbed at the sore spot on her back and stared at her bed. Lying in the middle of her dingy-colored sheets and looking none the worse for having been jumped on, was her cell phone.

Nikki blinked. "Where did you come from?" she asked it aloud.

She reached down and picked it up, automatically checking for missed calls, still not quite taking in the significance of her cell phone showing up in her room. It hit her about the same time she recognized Claire's number.

Nobody was supposed to know that they were here. They were in hiding. A chill of fear spread down her back. She shivered. Had Thorn stumbled upon her phone and returned it? That didn't seem likely.

"I lost it when I chased C-Cat," she murmured, barely moving her lips.

She had a voice message. Almost fearfully, she made it play.

It was Claire. She was terrified.

"Nikki," she hissed into the phone. "These men, they – they made me call you. They're," she lowered her voice even more. "They're threatening me. They said if you don't come, they'll…"

Then her voice became so garbled by panic and stammering that Nikki couldn't make it out. Her heart began hammering horribly in her chest.

"Ow! Stop it!" Claire cried. She sounded close to tears. "I'll tell her, alright?" she snapped miserably at whoever was making her talk. "Nikki, just come, please," she gushed compellingly. "Oh my gosh, Nikki, I'm so sorry." Claire was bawling now.

Her racking sobs died away as the phone was taken from her mouth. A harsh, gravelly voice spoke. "You know who this is, Fantasma."

Nikki went ice cold. Groak.

"If you do not show up within the next three hours, your friend will be sharing the fate of that vile Anderby." Groak breathed heavily into the phone for a full two minutes. Those two nauseating sentences seemed to have wearied him.

"Two hours and fifty-eight minutes, Nicole Parker," he finally wheezed. "The countdown has begun."

_Click.

* * *

_

"What are we doing here?" Spider-Girl hissed to her father. She looked around the dark prison compound with distaste. "Who are you meeting?"

He rapidly cut her off by drawing one finger across his throat. She could sense his irritation, even upside down. The black backpack he was wearing hung loosely off his shoulders. He had refused to tell her what was inside.

Spider-Man waited for the security camera to turn away with agonizing slowness. Then he waved for her to follow. The two phantoms crawled stealthily along the ceiling, pausing every so often to wait for the coast to clear or for a camera to move.

It seemed to take forever.

Spider-Girl, who hated the long, drawn-out times of waiting, was itching to swing freely through the hallways and take her chances with the guards. She was beginning to understand why her dad had requested so much time from the X-Men.

She also had to admire his extreme patience. Could she have done this by herself? Probably not.

Soon they were passing cells. Spider-Girl wondered about the inhabitants of each one. She thought of how awful it would be to spend one's life cramped up in these miserable cells, each one designed specifically for its occupant's powers.

There were name plaques. The word _Goblin_ was attached to several of these, but many of them she had never heard of. Her father pressed onward, never hesitating or veering from the path. He knew where he was going.

At last, they came to a halt. Spider-Man did a double sweep of the area before crawling down the wall and carefully dropping his feet over his head so that he flipped into an upright position. He slipped silently over to the door.

Spider-Girl remained on the ceiling. She knew her job was to keep watch. She squinted at the name plate, trying to make it out, but it was too dark.

The white door had only a small plastic window about the size of her father's hand. Spider-Man peered in.

There was movement behind the door and a face appeared. It was a woman.

Spider-Girl stared incredulously. The amazing Spider-Man wanted help from _her_?

For one moment that seemed frozen in time, nobody moved. Then Spider-Man shattered it by whirling and aiming a blast of webbing at the camera that was cruising leisurely toward them.

He tried to jam the keycard lock with webbing. That didn't work, although it did fizzle a little.

He eyed the number pad on the wall but seemed hesitant to touch it. Spider-Girl figured that it would probably set off an alarm if destroyed. So would the reinforced steel door.

The face in the tiny window was watching Spider-Man intensely, willing him to free her.

Spider-Man glanced up at his daughter. "Get ready to move fast," he said conversationally. He sounded quite calm.

Then he drew back his fist and smashed the keypad.

Instantly, the compound exploded in alarms. Spider-Girl clapped her hands over her ears. People were screaming, floodlights burst on, and cameras began swiveling at top speed, trying to spot the escapee. They would only be safe until someone realized that the camera by them wasn't working and came to investigate.

That didn't give them much time.

She looked frantically at Spider-Man. Luckily, when he had disabled the lock, the door slid open.

The woman rushed out and flung her arms around Spider-Man, half laughing, half crying with relief. He gave her a brief, noncommittal pat on the back, and then gently disentangled her. She had long, white-blonde hair that hung lankly against a thick orange suit. It reminded Spider-Girl of someone else's hair she had seen recently, but she couldn't put her finger on just whose.

"Nice outfit, Cat."

Felicia grimaced at Spider-Man's lame jest. She stared intently into the blank white eyes of his mask. "Why are you doing this?" she shouted over the sirens.

Spider-Man only grabbed her arm, pulling her down the hallway into a stumbling jog. "We'll explain everything outside," he hollered back.

Spider-Girl swung lazily behind them. "We'd better hurry up or we're all gonna get stuck here!"

Felicia, still being hauled doggedly along by Spider-Man, seemed to notice her for the first time. "Who's this?" she asked loudly. "Is she yours?"

He didn't turn around. "Yeah, she's my daughter. Spider-Girl, meet Felicia Hardy."

She began to correct him. "Actually, now it's Felicia Ca-"

A loud bark cut her off mid-word as they turned a corner. Felicia screamed as a ferocious-looking German shepherd lunged forward. He was headed straight for her leg.

His jaws snapped down on air.

Spider-Man swung easily over him, carrying the shell-shocked Felicia. "Sorry, Bud. Take a bite out of Venom for me next time you see him, all right?" he called to the dog.

It raced after them, but the trio was far ahead. A few minutes and several nerve-wracking close encounters later, they entered the lobby.

For a prison, it was a very fancy lobby, complete with Persian rugs, a large TV, and oak furniture. "Your tax dollars at work," joked Spider-Man to no one in particular. His daughter wasn't old enough to work and Felicia hadn't paid taxes in ages.

The truly magnificent feature of this lobby was the enormous glass window above the main entrance. It had been created specifically for the prison when it was built six years ago. Someone (probably somebody who wanted to avoid being locked up) had donated an insane amount of money to create the single, shining pane of glass.

But at that moment, to Spider-Man, it was not a work of art, but a nice, wide exit. He deftly swung Felicia behind him so that she was hanging, her arms in a death-grip around his neck. She gawked at the people waving their arms and shouting uselessly below them and the howling dogs that ran in circles.

The guards started shooting. Bullets whistled past them. She tried to duck her head but was getting jostled so badly, swinging back and forth like a rag doll, that she was sure it was pointless. Spider-Girl followed in their wake, zigzagging to dodge the bullets. They were nearing the single-paned window.

"Hang on!" Spider-Man roared.

Felicia squeezed her eyes shut.

There was one stunning instant of weightlessness when he released his webline and positioned himself so that his feet were aimed at the glass. Time seemed to be suspended during that brief stillness.

Then they made contact.

There was a deafening crash. The window pane exploded into millions of shimmering splinters. They burst through a shower of little crystals that refracted the light into a myriad of colors.

Just as quickly, everything went dark as they hurtled into the night.

The screams and barking gradually faded away. They were out of the compound. Spider-Man adjusted Felicia so that he was carrying her again and Spider-Girl wove in and out of his line of sight.

Felicia sucked in a deep breath of the air of freedom. She let it all out again in a whoosh. This was the first time she had tasted it in six years. It felt good.

She rested her head on Spider-Man's shoulder and for one beautiful second of time, she was able to pretend that she had made the right choice about him; that she hadn't been shallow and so caught up in her dreams that she could only love the mysterious Spider-Man and not the real Peter Parker.

She could imagine that she hadn't married a man for money and then watched her life ripped apart by a nasty divorce.

She could envision still knowing her child, the one that was born during her second marriage.

She could picture knowing her husband before his death, instead of being thrown in prison for past wrongs and only seeing him once a year for her entire detainment.

In that one, short second, Felicia could dream.

And then it was over. She felt his shoulder stiffen. She could sense his scowl beneath the mask. "Honestly, Cat," Spidey said in disgust, "I'm married." And that was that.

A few minutes later, they landed atop a short building. He put her down immediately.

Spider-Girl alighted beside them. "So now tell me, why on earth did we go through all that to get _her_ out of prison?"

Spider-Man was already digging into the backpack. "I think it's all here," he muttered to himself. "Yep." He threw the bag to Felicia. "Here," he said as she caught it reflexively. "It's got all your stuff in it."

She slowly reached in and withdrew a long piece of black fabric. A corner of white fringe caught her eye. It was her long-retired costume. A weak smile twitched at the corner of Felicia's mouth. "But why?"

"It's time for the Black Cat to come out of retirement," Spider-Man told her soberly. "It has to do with my daughter. And yours, Felicia Camdon."

* * *

Nikki slowly closed the flip phone. She knew who was holding Claire hostage. She felt sick. It was her fault that her friend was in trouble and hers alone. 

She spoke one word. "Groak." If anything happened to her best friend, _anything at all_, he would pay dearly. Oh, how he would pay.

Her brain reacted to this situation with surprising clarity and calmness. She hastily switched her pajamas for her thin, purple costume. Then Nikki ghosted through the wall and into Jake's room.

Jake was sitting on the floor, watching a racing movie on TV. A car screamed around the track. He didn't hear her enter.

Nikki marched over to him. "We need to go now," she informed him.

He leapt nearly a foot in the air. "Whoa! I didn't even know you were here! What's the big idea…?" He trailed off, catching sight of her stony face. Her green eyes flamed with an anger he'd never witnessed in her before. Her jaw was set. Jake had never seen Nikki so serious in all their time together.

Without questioning her, Jake got to his feet. He was still wearing his costume. "Okay," he said quietly. "It's Groak, isn't it?"

She didn't answer him. She didn't need to. Instead, Jake started a little as she thrust her phone into his hands roughly. "Listen to it."

Obediently, he put it to his ear and listened. His face darkened.

Nikki suddenly remembered Groak's threat. "_If you don't show up within the next three hours, your friend will be sharing the fate of that vile Anderby._" She watched for Jake's reaction. To her, it sounded like his dad was dead.

It seemed that Jake was thinking along the same lines. But he was less thrown by the news. "Always knew he'd get it someday," he mumbled dismally. Then he began doing something to Nikki's phone.

"Did you look at your pictures?" he inquired after a while.

Nikki blanched. "No!" she cried, grabbing for the flip phone. Jake held it out of her reach.

"Don't," he said seriously.

Nikki let her arm fall and didn't repeat her request. That phone was like a poison to her, holding all the pain in the world, sapping her strength of will. Instead, she asked, "Where is Thorn?"

Jake shrugged. "I don't know. She doesn't stay here."

"I know that," snapped Nikki impatiently. "But we have to find her now or go without her."

There was a knock on the door.

Nikki stalked over to it and ghosted her head through before he could object. Jake was stunned by her boldness. She wasn't thinking, just acting on brute instinct.

She pulled her head back in. "It's Thorn," she announced, and yanked the woman in through the door.

The ever-composed Thorn looked shaken. "Why did you do that?" she spluttered.

Nikki ignored her question. "We're going to see Groak. Now."

Even Thorn knew better than to disagree. She rounded on Jake. "Go get Allie."

He frowned uncertainly. "I don't think she'll want to come." They exchanged a significant look that Nikki didn't understand.

"That's just too bad."

Jake nodded mutely and swept through what was left of Nikki's fading blue residue.

The moment he had disappeared, Thorn touched Nikki's arm. "Now tell me what this is about?" There was unmistakable worry in her voice.

But Nikki pulled away. She said emotionlessly, "He's going to kill my friend if I don't show up in less than three hours." Her voice rose slightly in pitch. "What do you want me to do, sit here and do nothing? What would _you_ do?" she asked pointedly, thinking of Skylar, the only person she had ever known Thorn to call a friend.

Thorn heaved a sigh. She knew who Nikki meant. "No. But I would still be reasonable enough to see when it was impossible. What could you possibly do to help? By going to save her, you're playing right into Groak's hands."

"I can fight," answered Nikki, lifting her chin defiantly. "Last time, he got me with a broken collarbone. I could barely stand up. This time I'll be ready for him."

"Do you think that Jake, Allie, and I were all helpless like you last time?" demanded Thorn icily. "He still captured us. We almost didn't make it out. I know you were in a bleary-eyed stupor, but I think even you can remember that much." Thorn raised her hand as Nikki started to protest. "Nicole Parker, Groak will take your powers away before you can blink. It's pointess."

Nikki closed her eyes. She knew Thorn was right. But to leave Claire to those horrible men so they could do who-knew-what to her? It was unthinkable. She shuddered. No. She was going to do something honorable now, even if it killed her. She would save the only friend she had.

In a low voice, Nikki said, "I'll take a gun."

Thorn turned away with a bitter laugh. Still chuckling, she sat down on Jake's unmade bed and started flicking off cookie crumbs at random. "You? Carry a gun? You wouldn't know what to do with it."

"I can manage," said Nikki brusquely. "Jake taught me how to aim."

The black-haired woman inclined her head slightly to indicate that she was mildly impressed. "But that still doesn't help you."

"Yes, it does," Nikki argued violently. "If he doesn't let Claire go, I'll shoot him. He'd do no less to her."

"You're right about that," agreed Thorn quietly. "Tell me, Nikki. Could you really shoot someone in cold blood? Could you look someone in the eye and commit murder?" Her gaze pierced Nikki's until Nikki averted her eyes.

The room was still. Finally, Thorn said in a stronger voice, "Consider it rhetorical."

Nikki looked up. The older woman stood and began bustling around the room, preparing to leave.

"Go talk to Jake. Get him to hook you up with a pistol. He always has something lying around." Thorn pitched a couple of shirts and socks into a well-worn laundry bag. Nikki watched, dumbfounded.

The black costume that lay crumpled on the table was swept up into Thorn's arms. She made to go into the bathroom and change. Without looking over her shoulder, she called, "And then we'll go."

Knowing she had been dismissed, Nikki walked softly to the wall, the blue glow already surrounding her silhouette. Preparing to ghost, she happened to glance back in time to see Thorn dialing a number on her cell phone.

_That's weird_, she thought. _Who would she have to call?_

She stepped into the wall just as Thorn's hushed whisper reached her sensitive ears.

"I'm packing up now. We're going underground." There was a pause. "No…Yeah, send somebody to pick it up. I have a feeling we won't be coming back."

Nikki ghosted through the wall, cutting Thorn's conversation short, the solid wall that separated the two rooms instantly silencing her words. But they kept ringing in Nikki's ears even as she went to seek out Jake. Why did they sound so ominous?

"_I have a feeling we won't be coming back…_"


	21. Fatal Reunion: Part II

This is it. The REAL last chapter. Yes, it is ridiculously long. There will be a (hopefully) short epilogue to follow. After you read this, you may be wondering about a certain character who seems to have been abandoned. But fear not! Everything will be concluded in the epilogue (or most everything). But it may be a while in coming, as in several weeks. We'll see how long it takes me to get to it.

So what do I have to say for this one? Just that I hope it at least mostly lives up to your expectations, has enough twists and turns to make you dizzy, and gets you thinking about life, love, and consequences. I set out to write a story with a basic plotline that I found interesting and ended up with something completely different from my original plan. But that's okay!

And I'd just like to say that it is almost three years to the day that I published this story. Funny, no?

Here are the thank-you's:

Tokoyo and Griselda Banks for doing some beta-ing and giving me a lot of great advice about my writing. You guys have been incredibly encouraging and I love your writing too!

Yyunesprith, giveGodtheglory, jjonahjameson, and htbthomas for some amazing reviews and reminders to keep going. The little pokes you sent me when I was slow probably had more of an impact than you could guess.

To the rest who have reviewed regularly, irregularly, or once: Thank you so much for taking the time to leave a long or short message of advice, or even when you just stopped by to say that you read it.

My most sincere gratitude to you all!

Lady Suneidesis

* * *

**Fatal Reunion – Part II**

"Anytime would be good." Fantasma tapped her foot impatiently as Thorn scoured the alley. "What are you looking for now?"

Thorn cast her a cool glance. "I just want to make sure that we're not walking into another trap," she replied calmly.

"But Groak's already had Claire for over two hours. He's not the kind of person to wait around for us to show up. You guys took _forever_ to get ready."

She started as Mimic wrapped an arm around her waist. He gave her a gentle hug. "It's gonna be all right, Nik. You'll see," he assured her quietly.

Out of habit, Fantasma risked a fleeting look at Krystelle. But the limp-shouldered blonde was leaning against the dirty wall of the alley, looking at her feet without really seeing them. She still hadn't come back to her senses. It was kind of sad.

Fantasma felt guilty as she observed the broken, miserable girl while _she_ was cradled in the arms of said girl's ex-boyfriend. Ignoring Mimic's questioning look, she repositioned herself discreetly to shrug off his arm.

A few minutes later, Thorn declared it safe for them to enter the old cavern. It was hidden cleverly beneath a dumpster that looked like it hadn't been used for a long time but still reeked.

Somehow, Fantasma knew as she followed Mimic through the decrepit trapdoor and stumbled down the steep slope, that this was IT. This was going to be her final confrontation, the last mission she would ever undergo with this group. They were completely falling apart.

She still wasn't sure how she felt about it, only that she would do everything in her power to save Claire.

The door swung shut behind Thorn, the last member of the party, stifling them all in darkness. There was some fumbling and a flashlight flickered to light.

"What are you doing?" hissed Thorn angrily. She tried to shove past Krystelle and Fantasma, reaching for the light. "Are you trying to signal to every guard in the place that we're here?"

Mimic ducked away. "Believe me, they already know."

Fantasma tried to catch a glimpse of his expression in the oily light. But the bright flashlight cast shadows everywhere, making his face large and threatening. "What do you mean?" she asked worriedly. "What happened to the stealth approach?"

Mimic shrugged and pressed forward, the rest of the group following. The only sound was the soft taps of their boots and the occasional slap of water as someone stepped in a puddle.

"I hate this place," grumbled Krystelle. It was the first thing Fantasma had heard her say since their brief conversation at the motel.

When the path grew wider and leveled out, Mimic relinquished the light to Thorn who knew the way. Nobody said anything. Fear hung on the team like a foul smell.

They walked for a full ten minutes without seeing a single sign of life anywhere in the bleak corridors. Nikki wondered how anyone could find their way around here. She was already hopelessly lost.

Everything was so quiet. There was only the steady _plink plink plink_ of precipitation dripping steadily against the moldy concrete floor.

Nikki felt a dull tingle shoot through her body. She froze, recognizing the sensation. Her powers had just been snatched. Luckily, Allie had stopped too, or they would have collided.

The stillness was ended by a cough.

"Shut _up_, Jordan," a man snarled from behind Nikki. She whirled toward the unfamiliar voice.

"Sorry, Sir," Jordan sniffled back miserably from the opposite direction. "I told you I had a cold…" he coughed again, sounding very congested. "I think maybe it's pneumonia."

Nikki spun once more. Out of nowhere, a group of at least fifteen men in the stiff black uniform of Groak's army had appeared. They were completely surrounded.

Thorn cursed.

"'Fraid you won't make that mistake again, Jordan," his commanding officer said. Then he raised his gun, aimed through the people who stood between Jordan and himself, and fired.

Fantasma's and Krystelle's screams drowned out the sound of the dead man hitting the ground. They stared at his corpse in horror.

"Let's go," the killer ordered, smoothly sliding his still-smoking gun into its holster.

As Fantasma stepped over the man called Jordan, she had to force herself not to gag. A flash of lightheadedness made her totter slightly in mid-step.

Suddenly, Mimic was at her elbow. He carefully helped her over the body and gave her arm a little squeeze of encouragement before they were separated.

"It's gonna be all right," he whispered for the second time that night. He seemed so sure.

For the second time in her life, Fantasma found herself being marched to Groak's hall in a daze. How could somebody just shoot another person for being a nuisance?

Now she was seriously rethinking her whole plan of intimidation. There was no way Groak would ever listen to a seventeen-year-old. She'd fallen completely for his trap. Her only hope was that he would at least release Claire. But it seemed unlikely.

Fantasma thought she might be sick.

Two soldiers were with her this time. She gazed into their masks, trying to discern any emotion whatsoever. There was nothing. She wondered hazily if the guard who had carried her down here last time had survived the gun battle.

It seemed to take ages to reach the throne room. At last, they were ushered into the looming hall. The frail Groak still sat hunched up on his hard stone throne. Had he even moved?

"Where's the girl?" was the first thing out of Groak's mouth.

Two rough hands grabbed Fantasma's shoulders and shoved her forward. She staggered a little, but managed to keep her footing.

Groak considered her through his great, black eyes for a long time. "I was beginning to think that you had decided to abandon your little friend." His gravelly voice hadn't changed. "I suppose you think you're going to rescue her."

Fantasma swallowed hard, trying to gulp down the sticky fear that clung to the back of her throat. "Yes," she answered boldly, but his comment had already dismayed her. "Actually, I'm here to _demand_ that you release Claire."

He eyed her blearily. "Well, I regret to inform you that she's not here."

"She's what?" Fantasma choked.

"Not here." He shifted in his seat. "You wonder where she is."

Fantasma held back an angry retort, something along the lines of _Duh._

He smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. Not many teeth were left in that hideous mouth. "I'm afraid that I can't tell you that, as I'm not exactly certain myself."

She stared at him blankly.

"Perhaps the young Mr. Anderby would like to explain this confusing little situation," he suggested hoarsely, gesturing at Mimic.

She slowly twisted around. Mimic was studying the floor. "Mimic?" she whispered huskily. He looked up; they made eye contact.

"Nik, I don't know how to explain this…"

And that was when she saw it: the guilt in his face. It practically oozed out of him.

He licked his lips nervously and began speaking rapidly. "My dad - Odrade, Gerald Anderby, whatever you wanna call him – he's dead, Nik. I've got no one to rely on anymore. I had to make some choices…I needed money. Maybe you've met Luke, Claire's boyfriend?"

Fantasma could barely comprehend what he was saying. She couldn't get past the look in his eyes. She was numb with shock. He kept talking.

"It was the perfect way to get you here. I knew you would never leave your best friend to die."

"Shut up, Anderby," growled Groak. "I'll start at the beginning. You're a lousy storyteller, anyway," he muttered, rasping.

Fantasma didn't turn to face him. She kept watching Mimic, trying to see some inkling of untruth in his uncertain, shuffling movements.

"Anderby – Anderby Jr. that is – has been working for me for over three years now. He and his dad were both on the same team without knowing it; neither one was aware that the other was reporting to me."

He paused, going into a racking cough. One of the guards beside him held out a goblet of something foul-looking that he accepted thanklessly.

When Groak's breathing returned to normal, he continued. "I finally decided that it was time to claim the team I'd created. I called in Anderby Sr. and let him think that he was betraying you. But here comes the real twist in your story."

He leaned forward, something akin to excitement lighting up his ancient face. "I needed a real turncoat to bring you in, but I knew of only one person who could pull it off and still seem innocent in the unfortunate case of anything going wrong." He motioned toward Mimic. "There you have it, my dear," he croaked at her, smiling. "There's the actual traitor."

"You're lying," Fantasma replied, facing him. "Your son, C-Cat betrayed us."

Then Groak started making a very odd noise. He threw his head back, gargling and coughing. It took her a minute to figure out that he was laughing. It was the most nauseating sound she'd ever heard in her life.

"He told you what? That the little grinning brat was my son? No, my dear, he's my great-great-great grandson." His harsh laugh died away to a sickening chuckle.

"That's impossible," Fantasma retorted. "There's no way anybody could live that long." Although he certainly _looked_ old enough, she thought.

Groak shook his feeble head. "Of course there is. My son, and grandson, and so on have all possessed the same mutation, thanks to a little family experimentation. You're familiar with C-Cat's abilities, I believe?"

She nodded suspiciously.

"None of his paternal relatives lived long, and neither will he. They all got so obsessed with their abilities that they abused them. They spent too much time outside of time. And all the life they wasted, I received."

She scowled viciously. "So am I supposed to feel sorry for him?"

"For one thing, he didn't betray you. Why don't you show Miss Parker and Miss Camdon what you've been hiding, Anderby?"

"What should I do?" Mimic asked meekly.

Groak tapped his gnarled chin, thinking. "Clear up the whole mystery of Claire Wilson-Anderby."

Fantasma started. "What did you say?"

A tomato-red-haired girl appeared out of nowhere. "He was just telling you my true last name, Nikki."

Fantasma cried out. Right in front of her was Claire. She was standing completely free, just talking.

"Claire?" she whispered. She reached out her hand. Her friend's hand rose to meet hers. They touched briefly.

Then Claire disappeared. Fantasma was left standing with her fingers clutching at air.

"Looks pretty real, doesn't she?" Mimic strolled up calmly to stand beside her. "Even feels solid enough." His hands rested on the holsters that hung off his belt. He could have been wearing a baggy pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

It was only now that she realized they hadn't taken his guns. She could have smacked her forehead if she hadn't been too stunned to move.

"I ought to have her image down especially well. She's my sister, didn't you know?" he asked casually. "And her boyfriend Luke was my best friend. We grew up together. But not long after my parents divorced and I went into hiding with Dad, Luke was diagnosed with cancer. I've been the anonymous donor paying for his treatments for three years."

Mimic's face became terribly sad. "But a few months ago, I stopped sending any more money. By then, I'd realized it was hopeless. He's dying, Nikki."

"Tell me what's going on _right now_," she said through gritted teeth. It took all her concentration to keep from shivering in rage and terror.

Instead, Mimic continued his reminiscing. He had a far-off look in his eyes. "I haven't seen Claire in years, but I knew where we used to live. Coincidentally, I'm sure, Odrade's Fresh Food Mart ended up opening not far from our old house. And then, when I walked you to Claire's house for prom, I suddenly understood just exactly how important your little friend really was.

"There's more to my nickname than just vocal imitations, Nik. Honestly, how lame would it be if all I could do was imitate sound?"

Fantasma clenched her fists. "I didn't think it was lame," she said quietly.

He acted as though he hadn't heard her. "I can mimic people too, sort of like illusions, except real enough to interact with other people and objects." Mimic stopped. He appeared to be waiting for some kind of response from her.

"And?"

He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Doesn't that explain everything?"

Fantasma had to fight to keep her arms at her sides. She desperately wanted to punch that stupid look off his face. "No. Do enlighten me." Sarcasm dripped from her words.

"All right. Let's start at the beginning then." He began to slowly circling her while he spoke.

"The first time you saw me use these powers was back during the second night after you arrived. You may vaguely remember a certain battle between Spider-Man and a kid named Warren that made you think twice about going home?"

Her brain flicked back to the awful memory.

_Blood splattered on the ground about the boy as he landed in a crumpled heap, staining the dank alley an ugly red. For what seemed like an eternity, he didn't move. At last, he struggled into a sitting position, one leg twisted at a weird angle; it was broken._

_His short, once blond hair had been matted in different directions by his attempts to quickly smear the blood off his face. He sat there, glaring scathingly at the other kid who hung back in the darkness of the alley._

"_What, are ya afraid tuh come an' finish me off? 'Fraid that some punk might see ya wailin' on an innocent kid?" the boy taunted. "That'd ruin yer rep now, woodn'it?"_

_The bigger kid snorted in disbelief._

"_Don' think I'm innocent, huh? Ya little – "_

_Fantasma winced at the expletive._

_The boy continued, painfully raising a shaking arm to point accusingly at his attacker who had begun pacing, as though considering finishing what he had started._

_Fantasma forced herself to remain motionless. She could feel the horror and righteous fury welling up inside her, begging to be let loose on this murderous creature who dared to call himself a human._

"_I know yer true colors now. If ya let me go, I'll tell everybody that yer a murderer." The kid lifted his head defiantly. "Come on, now. Come an' get me, Spider-Man."_

_At this, the familiar red and blue vigilante shot out of the shadows, grabbing the kid by his shoulders and lifting him into the air. The boy refused to cry out as a pair of gloved hands slammed him into the wall, and then dropped him._

Something dawned on her. "None of it was real," Fantasma whispered. She looked Mimic directly in the eye. "You created both those people. They were illusions." She was disgusted.

"Actually," he corrected her, "they were more like mirror images – dolls, if you will – of the real Spider-Man and Warren. But yeah, I created them." He waved away his words as though they were nothing.

But they cut Fantasma to the quick. "You created those soldiers who helped us escape from here last time!"

He tossed his head with pretend modesty. "Oh, that was nothing."

"Why did you help us escape? Groak had us right where he wanted us."

Mimic narrowed his eyes in the old man's direction. What he said next was aimed more at Groak than her. "He hadn't bothered to mention that my father was trying to betray me. So after dear old Dad got his just desserts, I decided it was time to go. Groak and I reached a monetary agreement later."

"You traded us for money," Nikki said tonelessly.

Laughing, the horrible young man touched her cheek. She jerked away.

"And I created a copy of a man named Kurt Wagner to help us sneak into the X-Mansion to get Allie. But we're skipping ahead." He considered her for a while. She glared back fiercely.

"You never really blamed C-Cat like the others did. I still don't understand why you trusted him," said Mimic.

"I guess I must have some instinct that picks out the lying cowards from the victims," she offered bitingly.

Involuntarily, he wrapped his fingers wrapped around the pistol. Fantasma squared her jaw, daring him to raise the gun.

But he laughed and released the weapon. "You've gotten so brave, Nik. Or maybe just reckless." The smile on his face didn't reach past his mouth.

"I don't have time for this," she said frigidly. "Finish the story."

Mimic's smile faded. "Fine."

He resumed pacing around her. "The second time I really used them against you was the night C-Cat led you to Groak's compound. Or, should I say, this C-Cat?"

C-Cat materialized before them, the perpetual grin plastered on his face. Then he chortled and disappeared into thin air.

"I had already used the imitation C-Cat to bring Allie and Thorn here, and then I created a false Spider-Man to lead Spider-Girl to the compound. But you were the trickiest.

"How on earth could I fool you into wandering straight into a trap? You were already talking to C-Cat. At least, I knew you were about to because I saw him walk up and grab your arm. I was sitting in a parked car on the other side of the street."

"Hold on," Fantasma interrupted. "How could you know what happened? He took me into his little…dimension, or whatever it is."

Mimic shrugged. "Sure, as soon as he touched you, he disappeared."

"And while he was acting all concerned about me, _you_ couldn't see anything. But then he freaked out and vanished," she surmised. Little pieces were starting to float into place.

"Yes. And do you know why he got angry?" Mimic was grinning broadly now. "He saw me spying on you! Isn't that crazy?"

Fantasma said nothing, not entirely sure how this fit with the rest of the puzzle.

"He attacked me! One second, he was standing beside you, and the next thing I knew, he was in the car trying to wring my neck."

She closed her eyes. "So he realized what was going on. He was trying to protect me."

Mimic clapped her on the shoulder. "Good man, huh?"

Shuddering, Fantasma brushed his gloved hand away. "You must have beaten him up."

"Yep. I was in the backseat, gagging and choking. But the little creep hadn't counted on the driver. Groak had sent one of his men to drive me around that evening so I could concentrate. The soldier turned around pistol-whipped him. After pushing the unconscious kid off of me, I had the driver pull past you, around a corner. I think you saw the car?"

Fantasma nodded bitterly. Yes, she had seen it. But she had been too frightened to look inside at the passengers.

"The driver took the car into an alleyway. While he tied up C-Cat and stashed him in a dumpster, I started creating the illusory C-Cat that threw pieces of sidewalk at you."

Touching the small bump on her collarbone, Fantasma could almost feel the stone smashing into her neck, could still hear the crunching snap of bone.

"The driver got back in the car and as we began the journey to the compound, the fake C-Cat started you out on your chase. And you know the rest."

There was grand total of fifteen seconds of silence following his revelation. Nobody moved. Then the throne room burst into shrieking sirens.

People scattered. Fantasma ducked instinctively, plugging her ears. Her gaze darted back and forth, taking stock of the situation.

Two items of interest caught her attention. One was that Thorn and Krystelle were nowhere to be seen. The other was that all the guards were in chaos and Mimic was standing beside her completely dumbfounded.

A tremor traveled through her body; her powers had returned. No doubt the alarms had been enough to distract Groak. He was sitting pathetically on his throne and croaking weakly for his followers.

Fantasma turned to Mimic. "You," she snarled over the noise, "are the most cowardly wimp I have ever met in my life, second to none."

Mimic was so completely taken aback by the outburst that he only gawked at her, his mouth hanging open.

But she wasn't done yet. "You lied to me, Jake. I thought you _loved_ me." She glowered, repulsed. "What a joke. I don't think you even cared about Krystelle – you just used her. Creep."

Mimic started backing up, his eyes following her enraged movements with nervous precision. "Nik, you don't understand. It was never about Allie. As soon as I met you, I fell in love with you."

Catching sight of her barred teeth, he talked even faster. "We were meant to be together. Groak promised that after you joined him, we would both be safe. I was only looking out for your best interest." He tried to be charming, tried to flash her that winning smile that had melted her heat once upon a time.

But it wasn't working anymore.

"Come on, Nik." He was pleading with her now. "We can still stop this. We can still be the perfect team. We'll steal lots of cash, and when we're rich, we'll run away and forget all about Groak."

Run away again? Her head was spinning. The whole reason she was in this stupid mess in the first place was because she had run away. She thought of the short conversation with Allie at the hotel room. She remembered Jake's frustration with his unloving father.

Fantasma already had everything that Allie and Jake wanted – things they wanted so badly that they were willing to live a life of crime and isolation in a wretched attempt to fill the void left by a ruined family. And Mimic was trying to convince her to give all that up for good?

"You think Groak will just let you take his money and go?" She shook her head at his foolish stupidity. In the end, he was just a pitiable idiot.

Mimic, mistaking the lessened intensity of her advance for a sign of backing off, tried to recover some lost ground. "I promise I'll take care of you, Nik."

She ignored him and began walking away.

He grabbed her arm.

Nikki ghosted through his grip but was so incense that she lacked the concentration to take her sleeve with her. She barely heard the rip; one minute the cloth was being tugged off her arm, the next it was gone.

"I've already made sure that Groak won't experiment on you like the others."

Bad move.

Wide-eyed, her cheeks went from an appalled white to an incensed red in a few seconds. Fantasma shrieked, "You're more of a freak than C-Cat ever pretended to be!"

Before he could respond, she drew back her fist and decked him squarely in the jaw.

Mimic didn't utter a sound as he hurtled backwards across the room to land in a limp heap on the floor by the wall. She found a strange satisfaction in the bruises washing over his face in a surprisingly wide range of colors.

Wasting no time, Fantasma dashed through the pandemonium in the throne room. She made a beeline for the wide-open doorway. As she ran, she could feel multiple tremors passing through her. Each one slowed her down, like getting socked in the stomach. They were so frequent that she was no longer sure if she had her powers anymore or not.

That accursed Groak.

"Stop, Mutie!" A soldier leaped in front of her, holding up a semi-automatic.

She screeched to a halt, eyeing the gun. This was definitely not the ideal time to figure out if she still had her powers.

"Hands in the air, against the wall!" he ordered.

Trying to think at a dizzying speed, Fantasma smiled prettily. "Hey, now. That's not very nice to go calling people names." She put her hands on her hips. "I mean, how would you like it if I – Hey, what's that?" She pointed past him, over his left shoulder.

He didn't even begin curving his vision. "Yeah right, Mutie." He cocked the gun. "Like I haven't heard that one a mill-"

"Shoulda listened this time, then," cried Spider-Girl, swooping down out of the hallway. Her knuckles connected with the back of his head, sending the surprised man flying. "You really have a trust issue, you know that?"

She regarded Fantasma curiously. "Aren't you the saved me last time?"

Before Fantasma could reply, Spider-Man came whizzing around the corner with the Black Cat following close behind. Wind tugged her hair in front of her face, covering up what the mask failed to. They both flew past her and into the fray.

Spider-Girl hesitated, still waiting for an answer. "Guess I'm just returning the favor," she said, shrugging, then cast a web-line into the air that carried her after her father.

"Dad?" Fantasma whispered. He hadn't even given her a second glance. She wilted a little before remembering that she was wearing her costume. How could he recognize her?

In pursuit was another herd of Groak's reinforcements. They rounded the corner and raced down the hallway toward the throne room. She was forced to dart out of the way or risk being trampled, shot, or captured.

A laser blast informed her that the X-Men had arrived. Their party seemed awfully small for going up against the multitude of soldiers that kept streaming in. Until she saw them in action.

Wolverine dropped into a crouch, snarling, claws extended. A soldier shot him in the arm. Wolverine roared in pain and rage as he lunged forward, impaling the helpless man on his claws.

Cyclops cleared a path with a wide-spread, fiery beam from his visor. Men screamed. In a cloud of sulfurous smoke, a demonic-looking blue creature about the size of a man - but with only three fingers - appeared out of nowhere beside him.

_BAMF_.

His pointed tail thrashed around tensely. Another soldier called out something that sounded like a prayer as he aimed his rifle. The blue man snapped something in German. Then he pounced on the terrified man and disappeared again, taking the soldier with him

_BAMF._

Fantasma found herself backed against the wall watching her father and sister fighting a battle.

Her battle.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, she launched herself into the struggle. It took only than two measly punches and equal near-misses to figure out that she was no longer in possession of her powers. Spider-Girl really did deserve the credit for saving her after all.

Fantasma made her way out of the brawl – fast. There was little she could do to help without her powers.

She strained to see Groak. Had he been knocked out? Why wasn't he stealing anyone else's powers? Her gaze settled on his throne. It was empty.

Her jaw dropped. "How on earth could that half-dead man move anywhere?" she asked aloud.

A creepy, double voice answered her. "Good question."

A boy of seventeen or eighteen years of age with wild eyes and hair to match was leaning against the wall beside her. His arms were crossed as he surveyed the clash taking place before them.

Fantasma touched his shoulder, and he looked at her. Her hand flew to her mouth. "C-Cat?" she breathed, disbelieving. She was at a complete loss for words.

He saluted her impishly. It was C-Cat, all right.

For some time, she remained motionless. Part of her wanted to wrap him in a warm hug, and another part wanted to get away from the child of Groak's lineage. As a sort of happy medium, she did nothing.

Another tremor hit her. This one was harder than the last. Fantasma caught her breath, her legs nearly buckling under her. The tremors seemed to be getting stronger the more often they occurred.

"Nikki?" C-Cat said questioningly.

By way of an answer, she ghosted her hand into the wall and back out again.

"Nikki, as brilliant as that is," he looked doubtful, "your glow is like a target in this dark room."

A flash of gunfire followed his insightful comment. But this time Fantasma had a forewarning. She threw her arms around C-Cat, ghosting them both through the bullets before letting him go.

She wasn't about to wait around to be noticed. Grabbing C-Cat's hand, she dragged him toward the doorway, ghosting indiscriminately through unsuspecting and attacking soldiers alike.

"Where are we going?" he yelled.

"To find Groak." A thought hit her. "Do you know where he would be?"

C-Cat's hand twitched faintly in her own. "Yes," he said somewhat begrudgingly. "Take a left up here…now a right…another right." She obeyed his directions, following a complex route through musty corridors.

They arrived. But they weren't the first ones.

It appeared that Thorn had also known where to find Groak. She was standing protectively by Krystelle, her silver tendrils whipping and flashing about them agitatedly. Their backs were to the entrance of the small cavern.

Groak slouched weakly in a small chair at the back of the large room. A dispatch of about twenty soldiers barred the way between Thorn and Krystelle and Groak. They had their weapons cocked and ready. They meant business.

"You two set off the alarms, did you not?" Groak was saying harshly. "I had practically forgotten that we even had them."

Thorn nodded proudly. "We snuck off while you and your moronic guards were listening to that _boy_," she spat the word, "reveal your whole diabolical plot."

Groak gargle-laughed again. "And what good will those alarms do you?"

"For one thing, they led the X-Men and Spider-Man right to you."

"And how did they know you would be here?" Groak seemed mildly curious.

She smiled. "How else? The one chink in your impenetrable armor: C-Cat."

"Ah," Groak leaned back. "So he went against my wishes and asked for help. But no matter. With a snap of my fingers, every person in the throne room and in my domain will become powerless. After that, we will capture them easily."

"And that's why we're here to stop you," said Fantasma boldly, declaring their presence.

He nodded indulgently. "Of course, my dear. And you do realize that if I die while keeping hold of anyone's powers, those abilities will be lost forever?"

The snag in her marvelous plan.

Fantasma ground her teeth in frustration. She was able to stand her ground and keep up her composure, though it cost a great deal of willpower. "Then I guess some sacrifices have to be made."

Krystelle was looking at her oddly. There was something different about her, a kind of peace that suddenly spread through her.

Groak continued goading Fantasma. "Are you willing to be that sacrifice, Nicole Parker? No mutant can come within a three-foot radius of me without losing their powers."

Fantasma swallowed hard. C-Cat tightened his grip on her hand. She had forgotten that he was still holding it.

"Nikki," said Thorn in a carrying voice, not once letting her eyes leave Groak, "the only reason he's making the effort to talk you out of this is because he sees you as a threat."

Groak roared with unpleasant laughter, but Fantasma was sure she detected a hint of fear. "You might be able to get close enough to kill me, but you will have no way to save yourself. My soldiers will shoot you the instant your powers are gone." His black eyes twinkled evilly. "Still want to be the sacrifice?"

There was a long minute when nobody moved. Just as Fantasma, understanding her apparent destiny, was about to pull away from C-Cat's tight grip, someone broke the silence.

"She doesn't have to," Krystelle said, surprising them all. A solid sheen of crystal blossomed in the center of the girl's chest, spreading outward and enveloped her entire body. Armor.

Fantasma bit her lip.

Krystelle's crystal eye winked at them. "A guy at school showed me this."

Behind her cocky, devil-may-care attitude, Fantasma sensed a deep regret surging through the other girl. What on earth could she possibly be planning? Surely she wasn't that crazy…

Krystelle addressed Groak again. She made a striking figure, standing tall: her body completely sheathed in gleaming stone with a halo of white-blonde hair that nearly glowed in the darkness. "You had my father killed, Groak, and my mother thrown in jail. You destroyed my only chance at a normal life."

Thorn let out a cry, finally comprehending Krystelle's insane objective. She made a grab for the girl to stop her. But Thorn was too late.

The crystal-encased teenager didn't even turn around. She raised her hand over her shoulder, flat palm facing the group behind her. Just as with her armor, the crystal began as a pinpoint of shimmering rose in the center of her palm. It spread rapidly, shooting off in all directions. Thorn almost ran into it.

Fantasma barely noticed C-Cat's hand painfully tightening on hers as Krystelle walled herself off in the other half of the room. The blonde girl was sealed inside, away from their help.

It was a tomb.

The three teammates could barely make out her next, and last, words. There must have been some miniscule crevice just large enough to let out sound. They would never find out if it had been created intentionally.

Krystelle spoke, her voice riddled with bitterness. "It's time to pay, Groak. I'm gonna make you regret my lost family as much as I do, 'cause now I have nothing left to live for."

Holding a singl, gleaming pink dagger of crystal in her raised hand, she shoved her way through the soldiers. Their bullets only glanced off her makeshift armor, leaving nicks that had to be continually repaired. As each new crevice was created, it swelled shut again. But this was no easy task. The soldiers were completely unloading on her at point blank range.

Fantasma, Thorn, and C-Cat, petrified, watched the whole ghastly scene. It was as if there was some sort of sick movie screen separating them from the carnage taking place only a few yards away.

Fantasma shuddered involuntarily. Bullets were ricocheting off the crystal, taking down other targets. Soldiers were dying all around Krystelle, even as they prepared to murder her. They knew that they were going to die. It was only a matter of time.

One masked man fell back against the crystal wall with a thud. His body slid to the ground, his head lolling forward. A long, bloody smear remained in his wake. Dead.

After what felt like ages, Krystelle reached the three-foot radius. They knew she had hit it because her armor suddenly stopped reconstructing. She started taking bullets.

With a blood-enraged scream, Krystelle charged forward, crystal knife held aloft. She landed in a crumpled heap on the foul old man.

He yelped once in pain and then was still.

But that shriek sent a final tremor through the room, one that nobody could avoid. It hit Fantasma full on, sending her reeling. Her vision blurred; she saw stars. Releasing C-Cat's hand, she saw him double up in pain through her misty eyesight. In front of her, Thorn collapsed. Motion swirled about her and people shouted, but she could no longer comprehend anything.

She hung in the delicate balance between fainting and an excruciating migraine.

When her pounding head returned to normal a few minutes later, Fantasma rose stiffly to her knees on the cold floor. Her legs had gone numb. At some point in the agony, she had fallen to the ground. Kneading her temples with her fingers, she took in the ghastly sight.

The room was almost completely empty. Presumably the soldiers were all dead or dying. Also, there were no more ghostly reverberations of fighting in the distance. She assumed that the remaining survivors in the throne room had given up. They must have known the futility of fighting all the mutants flooding their tunnels without their corpse-like leader.

The only living ones left in the dark chamber were an unconscious C-Cat, the slowly reviving Thorn, and herself. The two dead people slumped over the chair at the back of the room felt like the focal point of a demented painting.

Fantasma couldn't look at Krystelle. Suffice it to say, the girl was pretty much unrecognizable.

Feeling numb, Fantasma crawled across the icy stones to C-Cat's limp body. He was curled up in the fetal position, shivering. She cautiously rolled him over. Other than a nasty lump on the side of his head where he must have hit the floor, he was unharmed.

She hoped he didn't have a concussion. _What is it that you're supposed to do with those again?_

Thorn staggered over to her. Fantasma craned her neck back with some difficulty to look up into her face. The woman's eyes had glazed over in shock. She held out her hands, palms facing up.

"They're gone," she said expressionlessly.

Their powers had been snatched away. Permanently.

Fantasma tried to make her hand glow, tried as hard as she could. But there was nothing. The inner connection had been severed. The strange abilities she had once feared, the powers she had come to rely on, had gone away forever.

It would seem like the perfect time to cry…but what was the point? Fantasma wasn't even sure she could. She returned Thorn's gaze, the two comrades silently acknowledging their shared desolation.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway.

"Where are they?"

"Are you sure they went this way?"

"In here!"

Thorn regained her use of speech first and met them in the hallway. Fantasma stayed where she was, keeping a mournful vigil of the insensible boy. He would have lost his powers too.

How would it affect him? He shivered feverishly. Fantasma tenderly cradled his head in her lap, rocking slowly from side to side. She stroked his disheveled hair with shuddering, uneven motions.

* * *

Spider-Man halted mid-swing, almost missing the chamber. There were an insane number of rooms and hallways in this underground rat hole. And they were allcrawling with lackeys. The whole setup reminded him of an ant colony. It would take forever to chase everything out. 

The one thing that was seriously worrying him right now was the kids.

Emma Frost had first discovered them during a psychic sweep of the place from outside. She had declined to participate in the search, preferring to return to the X-Mansion to take care of some other business.

According to Emma, somewhere in the tunnels was a troublingly large group of children and teenagers. They were being held against their will. Most of them were scared, if not terrified.

That was all she could gather from such a distance.

It was running through all their minds, but nobody said it aloud: mutant experimentation.

Spider-Man had guessed instantly that Nikki would be with them. He had to find her. Now he that he knew what to look for – an area of holding cells filled with children, most likely – why wait for the others to catch up?

Hence he was swinging through hallways, picking directions at random, and virtually lost.

During his hasty search for Nikki, he had glimpsed sparkling glass in this room, or something like it. He veered off sharply. Black Cat barely beat him to the entrance, but he landed beside her in an instant.

An unfamiliar woman blocked the doorway. She was conspicuous despite being covered completely in black, utilizing her full height. She seemed like a shadow that had just stepped away from the wall; darkness still clung to her, reluctant to release its hold as though it knew her best.

"Can I help you?" the shade-woman inquired. Her shoulders didn't slump in spite of the utter fatigue that was draped around her like a cloak.

"We're looking for two teenage girls," Spider-Man informed her brusquely, wondering if it would be easier to just knock her aside and look for himself. He didn't ask who she was. At the moment, he really didn't care. "A brunette and a blonde. Have you seen them?"

The costumed woman considered him with a forced imperiousness. There was an unusual edge to her voice. If he hadn't been so preoccupied, Spidey would have recognized the haunting undertones of someone who had recently had the very essence of life snatched away. "They're in here."

Black Cat tried to peer around the tall stranger. "Who are you?" she said somewhat distractedly.

The woman stood even straighter, if that was possible, talking over Spider-Man's next question. "Yes, Mr. Parker, she's safe. But Mrs. – "

"Just call me Black Cat."

"Black Cat, I really must warn you that you may be…ah…unsettled by what you see – "

Spider-Man was done waiting around. "Nikki?" he called. He jostled past the woman in the doorway, hardly noticing how surprisingly frail she felt as he brushed her out of the way. Her once formidable figure sagged against the doorframe hopelessly.

He didn't even grant the woman a fleeting look. His eyes were busy traveling to the massacre behind the veil of rose-tinted crystal in the back of the room.

Blood coated the crystal like splatter-paint. One man half sat, half leaned against the transparent wall. His neck hung to the side at an unnatural angle.

"What happened here?" Sickened, Spidey clasped his hands behind head and then promptly dropped them to his sides. He's seen gory battles before, but this was butchery. The pungent odor of death assailed his nostrils.

All those men had died in that tiny chamber with absolutely no chance of escaping. A claustrophobic's nightmare. "What happened here?" he repeated, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat. _Why did they all kill each other?_

Nobody answered him. Black Cat was still standing in the doorway beside the unknown woman.

Spider-Man gradually became aware of motion to his right. He twisted in that direction.

A costumed girl was sitting cross-legged, hunched over a similarly attired boy. The boy appeared to be unconscious. He was much taller than her; his gangly legs stretched out across the damp floor. She swayed gently, holding his head in her lap.

Neither one was familiar to Spider-Man. They were just two traumatized victims of this cruel underground world. He once again recalled being briefed by the X-Men before entering Groak's domain and their hints about mutant testing, especially on children and teenagers.

Nevertheless, he crossed the room and knelt beside the girl. "Can I help?"

Flinching at his near proximity, she slowly turned her head to meet the blank eyes of his mask. Her own were framed in curling black trim, but just as vacant. She shrugged listlessly. "Dunno." Her voice was hoarse from unshed tears.

Spider-Man didn't recognize her voice, though his mind registered that he might have met her before. "What's the matter with him?"

She didn't respond.

Sighing, he reached to pick the boy up. Suddenly the girl came alive, startling violently and shoving him away, the ferocity of the attack almost knocking him over.

Spider-Man backed up warily and held up his hands in a harmless gesture. He'd dealt with plenty of disturbed and stupefied people in his day. "Whoa, it's okay, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt him. I have friends here that can help." Watching her closely, he bent down once more.

This time she allowed him to gather the limp boy up in his arms, but let him know that "no one can help him now."

As Spidey raised the strange kid off the floor, a fever-induced reflex made the boy grasp about frantically. His fingers managed to snag the ties of the girl's mask as she got to her feet too. It slipped off her face, hanging flaccidly around her neck like a bedraggled bandana. She looked up.

Thunderstruck, Spider-Man nearly dropped the boy. A flashlight swept through the chamber, making the bloodied crystal glitter. Recognition sparked in the girl's face.

"Nikki?"

"D-Dad?"

His throat went dry.

The flashlight made another sweep of the room, momentarily lighting up her ashen skin. Her shoulders were bare; one of her sleeves had been torn clean off. Flecks of blood that may or may not have been her own stood out on her cheek like cherries in cream. She was shivering visibly, her arms covered in goose bumps.

With some awkwardness due to the nearly-grown boy he was carrying, Spider-Man leaned forward, inviting a hug. He didn't dare speak. The moment felt almost too fragile. One word and the whole scene would shatter into a million pieces like the window at the prison.

Delicate.

Was this all a dream? _I don't ever want to wake up._

His arms already full, he couldn't reach initiate the embrace. It was up to Nikki to grant him that.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he'd get one.

* * *

Nikki didn't understand the gesture at first. Her brain was still regrouping. Her father, Spider-Man, Peter Parker: he was standing in front of her. 

When it finally clicked, she hesitated. She could almost smell the fear radiating off him. Fear that she would reject him, that she wouldn't want to forgive and be forgiven.

C-Cat mumbled fitfully in his sleep.

She considered Jake and Allie, both set on destroying their lives because they couldn't have what she was being offered right now.

One thought stamped itself prominently in her mind, forcing back everything else.

_I have to see his face._

To her father's surprise, she reached up with both hands and took hold of his mask. He let her whisk it off.

His hair was grayer. He didn't appear to have shaved this morning and was looking distinctly scruffy. What did Mom look like now? Was she still dying her hair? They were two years older now.

_What have I been missing?_

She flung herself on him, nearly sending him sprawling despite her missing abilities.

He hadn't expected such a dramatic response. Staggering a little, he squeezed his eyes shut. Two years since he had laid eyes on his daughter…two years since he had been able to say…

"I love you."

Suddenly, she shrank away. "They're gone," she said, extending her arms to show him.

Spider-Man was puzzled. "What are you – what are you talking about?" He had absolutely no idea what she meant. "Who are _they_?"

There was defiance in her eyes, as though she was daring him to think ill of her, waiting for him to recoil.

_Can't you see?_

_Don't you know?_

_Will you even want me anymore?_

Nikki let her arms fall to her sides. "Daddy," she said, patiently. "They're gone now. Groak took them away."

Why couldn't he understand?

Still trying to decipher the mysterious expression on her chalky face, he demanded, "Who is she talking about?" A quivering note of panic slipped through.

Thorn answered from the doorway. "Her powers, Mr. Parker. Her powers are gone." She added more softly, "As are mine."

Nikki saw the horror pass across his face. Was there a hint of revulsion as well?

"Oh, Nikki," he said, appalled. "What did they do to you?"

A group had gathered in the hallway, viewing the emotional reunion, nearly forgetting the mess they had yet to clean up. Black Cat, attention no longer diverted, started trying to push past Thorn again. "Let me through!"

"Really, I don't know if you should see this, Ma'am…"

Black Cat broke away. Overhearing Spider-Man's conversation with his child was making her anxious to find her own baby. She took three steps into the room then screamed bloody murder. "Noooo! Allison! She raced across the chamber, wide eyes locked on what had once been her daughter.

Blocked by the crystal, she slapped her palm against it. "No! No!" she screeched shrilly.

Several of the X-Men entered the room: Cyclops, Wolverine, and a man in a trench coat that Nikki didn't know. Cyclops sympathetically led the panic-stricken woman away while the trench coat-man began flinging playing cards at the sheer wall. Before the pointlessness of what he was doing had time to register, the cards began exploding, taking the crystal with it.

Spider-Man shielded both C-Cat and Nikki with his body. She covered her ears, wincing as debris flew past. She watched the heartbreaking scene from the safety of her father's side.

Before the smoke had cleared, Black Cat was off like a shot through the hole. She fell upon her deceased daughter, weeping. Her grief-filled sobs echoed throughout the chamber. Spider-Man drew Nikki to him tightly. This time, she remained in his arms.

C-Cat raised his head groggily between them. His eyes were rolling around, barely able to focus, but he managed to make out the terrible picture of Black Cat clinging to the dead Allison Camdon.

For the first time out of his own dimension, he sounded like a normal teenaged boy. Shaking his woozy head, he uttered the horrible words running through Nikki's mind.

"That could've been me." Then he passed out.

* * *

The next few hours were a blur for Nikki. Her father, despite his better judgment opted to leave her in the throne room surrounded by X-Men while he attempted to comfort the inconsolable Felicia. He had replaced his mask. 

The chamber was swarming with kids Nikki's age now. They were running around, crying, and shrieking with unrestrained glee at their freedom. Only a few of the sadder cases were incapacitated, though almost all of them had undergone some form of experimentation. _That would have been my fate_, she thought, _if Dad hadn't shown up._

Eventually, her sister found her.

"NIKKI!" Spider-Girl hollered delightedly from half-way across the room. Nikki grinned and gave a small wave. Then she cringed, preparing to be bowled over as Spider-Girl swooped into the air, over the heads of the people separating them.

She landed gracefully, scooping her older sister off the floor and swinging her around in dizzying circles. Nikki found that overexcited little sisters with super-strength could be hazardous to one's health.

"Argh, lemme go, you crazy girl!"

Spider-Girl set her down and proceeded to talk a mile a minute. "I missed you so much! We thought you were dead, but then when I saw you down here last time…I was just sure that it had to be you. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! I can't believe you left us, but I'm so glad we found you again."

She pranced around with giddy energy, grabbing Nikki's hands and twirling her into a madcap waltz. "Do you have any idea how amazing it is to finally be able to share what I am with somebody else? It'll be freaking awesome!"

She finally stopped dancing, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

Nikki felt herself shrinking inside. All those plans. How long had May been dreaming those up?

Dad still loved her, but he was her father. Besides, he probably felt somewhat responsible for what had happened to her.

May was…May was different. She had no obligation to accept her sister again. How would she take the news?

"Slow down, okay?" She could no longer hold onto a fake smile. "Oh, May, all that would've been a lot of fun, but I've changed now, in…irreversible ways."

Spider-Girl's enthusiasm didn't wane in the slightest. "What the heck are you talkin' about?"

_How do I tell her?_

Nikki took a deep breath. Everything came out in a rush. "My abilities. Wall-climbing, strength, walking through walls – man, I wish you could have seen more of that, May. It was incredible! All of that's been taken away. Groak, he stole our powers."

Spider-Girl took a step back, dazed.

"Of course, I never had any of those web-shooter-thingies that you and Dad use. I think maybe my ghosting abilities messed that up."

…

"May?"

Snapping out of her stupor, Spider-Girl gently took her sister in her arms again. She was so careful this time.

_Oh gosh, _Nikki thought, rolling her eyes, _she's afraid of crushing me._

She squeezed back as hard as she could. Spider-Girl, catching on, increased pressure until Nikki really was in danger of being squished.

Both girls broke apart laughing, one of them still gasping for breath.

Before they could begin catching up on two years of separate lives, Thorn appeared out of nowhere. She took Nikki's arm, inclining her head slightly to acknowledge Spider-Girl.

"Where are you going?" Spider-Girl began to follow.

Nikki waved her off. "I'll be back. Don't worry." She tried to tell the same thing to her stomach which was flipping about nervously.

Thorn led the mystified girl back down the hallway, ducking into an antechamber.

"What do you want?" Nikki asked.

Thorn poked her head out of the room, ascertaining that they were completely alone. She removed her mask. Nikki imagined that Thorn would have been wringing her hands if she was any lesser of a woman.

Then: "This is a mess. Do you realize that? I let everything go haywire, and now I'm going to pay big time." She rubbed her forehead, trying to settle down. "As if I haven't paid the highest price already," she muttered.

"What?"

Thorn grimaced. "Shut up. Just shut up." She scrubbed at her forehead again, one hand gliding over her head to tug at her hair in distress. After a few calming breaths, she said more properly, although she nearly lost it at the end, "Sorry. I don't have much time to try to fix some of this. And so help me, I am going to try!"

Nikki winced. Thorn was nearly hysterical. She composed herself once again with supreme effort.

"My superiors – ha, you didn't know I _had_ any superiors, did you? – they are going to murder me when they hear about the disaster that was this mission." She kept her cool from now on. "I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., ever heard of it?"

Nikki shook her head.

"Whatever. All you need to know is that it's a government organization. Dear old dad could tell you all about it. Now this is where it gets important. They've known about Groak for years, but when they got wind of possible 'mutant experimentation,' they decided it was time to send somebody in. Me."

Thorn continued with a passion that Nikki had never before witnessed.

"It was completely wrong, you know that don't you? What Groak was doing? So I agreed to it. There was mostly just a lot of recon at first, but then they had an idea. They knew that Groak was somehow getting a hold of child mutants, but they needed to know where he was getting them.

"So about three and a half years ago, I managed to catch Groak in the middle of an important conversation. It was gold, really. Solid gold. Exactly what we were waiting for. He was meeting with a certain Gerald Anderby who was begging for cash in order to start a group of mutant thieves.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. decided that this was the perfect opportunity to really go undercover, not just underground. I was young enough to seem reckless and unbridled, but old enough to have a past of some pretty serious thieving jobs."

Nikki cut in. "You'd been a thief before Groak?"

Thorn motioned for her to be silent. "I don't have a lot of time, okay? But yeah, I was a contract thief before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. You may not remember that you met my old partner, Skylar, at a soccer game a year and a half ago.

"But I digress. I signed on with 'Veron Odrade,' S.H.I.E.L.D. easily monitoring the whole mission. The crew Odrade obtained was less than spectacular, _I_ thought. Groak's great-great-great-etc. grandson, Odrade's unstable son, and some spit-back girl from the X-Mansion.

"Then you came along. That was when things started to unravel. You weren't just another street kid. You were Spider-Man's daughter, for crying out loud! But Groak and Odrade had somehow contrived a complex scheme to get you involved. It would have been impossible to pull you out without causing a lot of suspicion, and we were making major progress. Although I certainly did my best to encourage you to leave on your own."

Ashamed, Nikki admitted, "I was gonna break up the group from the inside, Thorn. They were blackmailing me. It sounded like such a great idea at the time…"

Thorn curled her lip in distain. "It was a fool's errand. I couldn't help you, and you were too mulish to ask for your father's assistance. But that's in the past now. You saw how everything leapt out of control from then on. S.H.I.E.L.D. was ready to pull the plug, but then C-Cat, or I guess Jacob Anderby, betrayed us to Groak. There wasn't a way in the world that they would give up after that. And I argued with them like crazy, post-escape.

"They wouldn't listen. They were willing to take you in at some fancy, secretive hospital to sew you up, but they would _not_ pull out."

Nikki broke in. "I think I can finish the story." Her fingers stung with cold, but her heart was ice. "You blew it. We ended up in a battle to the death, the X-Men and my dad got involved, we all lost our powers, and one of _your_ charges was killed doing what _you_ should have done."

Thorn gasped as though struck.

But Nikki didn't back off. "Allie died in you place as much as in mine!"

"If even half of this is true…" an ominous male voice thundered from the doorway.

Both Nikki and Thorn jumped and whirled to face Spider-Man. He was outraged. Thorn moved protectively in front of Nikki. "Don't you dare say anything! She has a right to make her decision."

"What decision?" asked Nikki.

Thorn and Spider-Man were staring each other down.

"What decision," she said, even louder.

Thorn answered, "What you'll do now."

"She'll come home with me where she belongs," growled Spider-Man. Clearly, Thorn didn't understand the danger she was putting herself into.

"No," countered Thorn. "She chooses. Not you." She turned to face a very confused Nikki. "Nicole, the plan was not to send any of you back to your parents. Heck, you were the only one who had decent parents to go back to in the first place."

"Why?" Nikki said, feeling very small and out of control.

"To give you the less obvious reason: S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't sure how any of you would handle the transition back into normal life. It would be jarring, for sure. Some of you might snap and run away again. We were going to recruit you into S.H.I.E.L.D. - "

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Spider-Man interrupted, nearly livid.

Incensed, Thorn turned on him. "So this whole thing is a mess, and I can't help it if you weren't supposed to find your daughter like this – "

"Or at all, sounds like!"

Thorn turned white with rage. "Will you just listen?"

Nikki let her head droop. She was exhausted and sick of bickering. Her father had moved out of the doorway by now, toward Thorn. She crept around them.

Her father's unusual sixth sense – which she would later learn to call spider-sense – alerted him to her leaving. "Nikki?"

"I'm staying with you, Daddy," she said quietly and kept walking. "I love you."

His tone warmed considerably. "I love you too." Then he returned to protective-mode. "Here that?" he challenged Thorn.

Thorn snapped back, "She doesn't know what she's saying. She's just a kid – "

"Exactly!"

" – and the transition could be too much…"

Their raised voices faded into the gloom of Groak's crumbling domain. Nikki wandered farther away, only vaguely aware of her surroundings.

What would become of her now? Dad wouldn't let them take her away and she didn't want them too, but Thorn was right about one thing: going back home to live under her parents' rule was going to be a shock after having little to no authority over her for so long.

"Nikki?"

Nikki jumped. She'd been so lost in her thoughts.

A young man holding a large bag of ice to his upper forehead approached her. "Nikki? Where were you going?"

"C-Cat, is that you?"

He chuckled in answer. She managed not to shudder. It was still weird but didn't grate on her nerves anymore. In fact, he was about the only person she was truly glad to see right now.

"You know," she said shyly, yanking herself up out of the pit of worry that was pulling at her, "I never got to thank you for trying to save me from Jake."

C-Cat shrugged. "You would have done the same for me."

"Yeah, I guess so." Nikki scuffed her shoe against the grimy floor. "It still means a lot. You got tied up and chucked in a dumpster after all. That must've been awful. How'd you get out anyway?"

"I wriggled free. He didn't tie me that tightly."

"It was very brave of you," Nikki told him soberly.

"Eh." C-Cat shrugged again. "I didn't mean to end up in the dumpster."

She laughed. "Thanks. For everything."

He bowed solemnly, still grinning.

Casting her gaze somewhere other than his odd expression, she said, "C-Cat isn't much of a name in the real world."

He cocked his head at her. A thin line of condensation slid off the plastic bag, crawling steadily down his cheek. "Huh?"

"Well, you're going to have to live and interact with normal people now, and I think you need a new name." Inspired by an uncharacteristic bit of pluck, she reached forward and brushed the liquid off his face. It felt wonderful to converse about something light-hearted again. And wonderful to touch his face.

"Like what?"

"Like…" Nikki studied his untamed eyes glittering in the dark, his unruly hair, and the confident way he was holding himself. "Zachary. You are a Zach if I ever saw one."

His bizarre smile grew even bigger. "I like that."

"You don't have a last name, do you?"

"No."

Nikki felt much lighter now. The weight of the world was no longer hanging on her shoulders. "You need a surname then, Zach." She enjoyed how his new name rolled off her tongue. It fit him.

"Smith?" he suggested lamely, teasing her a little.

Nikki decided she liked his teasing. "Zach…" She raked her brain. One particular surname came to mind. "Reilly. How 'bout that? Whaddaya think?"

Zach Reilly agreed enthusiastically.

"Perfect. We'll get our _friends_ at S.H.I.E.L.D. to work it out for you. They can do stuff like that apparently."

Zach extended his arm in a gentlemanly gesture, though the twinkle in his eye was still as mischievous as ever. The bag of ice slipped down over his brow giving him a lopsided appearance.

A pang hit her as she remembered Jake escorting her to Claire's house before prom. _Jake's history now_, she told herself firmly. _And maybe, just maybe, C- I mean Zach, could be my future._

Nikki took his arm regally. Raising her chin, she fell into carefully measured steps beside him. She knew he was headed back to the throne room.

"Jake will be there," she said.

"In cuffs. He probably knows about Allie by now."

She shuddered. "What'll he care? That toad."

Zach pursed his lips. "I believe he cared for her in his own twisted way. He just started down the wrong path and never got a hand up."

"Like we did."

"Your father and your sister will be waiting for you."

Nikki tripped. Zach pulled her against him to keep her from falling. It was the first time she'd stumbled in over a year and a half. Before he could comment on her lack of balance, she offered jokingly, "Yeah, if Thorn gave up. You should've heard him. I don't think I've ever seen Dad so ticked off."

Zach set her back on her feet, and they resumed walking. "You have a good family."

"Yes." Then she repeated more firmly, "Yes, I do."

The couple approached the domed chamber. "Take it all in stride, okay?" he said. "Your family will learn to trust you again. They love you a lot."

"Hey, Zach? Two things. First, you are going to stay with us. Mom and Dad will take you in for as long as you want. Mom is very accommodating."

Suddenly nervous, he released her arm. Squishing the mostly-melted bag of ice in the region of the sizeable goose egg on his forehead, he ran his free hand through his sodden tangles with some difficulty. "You sure? I've never had a real family," he said wistfully. "Of course, now I'm old enough to be on my own, I think."

Nikki steered the hesitant young man over toward her father. "You are going to stay with us, Zach," she declared. "I don't give a rotten jelly donut about what Thorn's plans were."

He started laughing. Not a giggle. A real, honest-to-goodness laugh. As they neared Spider-Man and Spider-Girl, who were both watching curiously, he inquired of the second thing she had mentioned, his uncanny grin never faltering.

Nikki barely managed to keep a straight face as she spoke.

"Just this: can you please stop smiling?"


	22. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Claire,

My sister should have delivered this to you. _They_ don't keep as much of an eye on her as they do on Zach or Dad.

You've (hopefully) just finished reading my little narrative. If you're completely weirded out now, I understand. It was a little strange to review the past two years of my life and all the events and decisions that led up to fighting for my life in Groak's throne room.

And watching Allie die.

I can't tell you how awful that was, Claire, and how many times it plays out over and over again in my dreams. Imagine being her mother and all the hope that she had going underground to find her daughter.

I don't like to imagine much anymore.

Yeah, it's been more than a year since you heard from me. There's a reason for that. First of all, I had to settle back into normalcy.

It was harder than you might think. It took months before Mom and Dad let me go anywhere by myself. And there's still an element of trust that is gonna take a very long time to get back, if ever. They're also really jumpy.

For example, I climbed out of my window onto the roof a few weeks back to write some of the account you've already read. It was so nice outside and climbing still hasn't become a big deal to me.

Remember when we went rock-climbing that one time at the sporting goods store with Aaron? I still smile when I think about having to use all that harness equipment. Of course, I'd need it now.

Anyway, when Dad came outside to water the lawn, he saw me on the roof and totally freaked. He dropped the hose, sprang up onto the shingles, and brought me back down to the ground, all in clear daylight. Lucky nobody was around. It would have been funny if he was less angry and the situation wasn't so pathetic.

Maybe you're wondering about school. Maybe you don't care at this point. By now you've probably written me off as crazy. Still, what the heck, I'll tell you.

I never went back to high school. Through an arrangement with S.H.I.E.L.D., I finished my education and made up what I'd missed. The tutor was some stiff-necked government dude with a weak chin and a comb-over. It was gross. But whatever. I'm done.

The second reason why you might have thought I dropped off the face of the earth is that I've pretty much been forbidden to keep any link to my past. No contact with anyone. Period.

S.H.I.E.L.D. has unfortunately done an efficient job of covering their tracks. After that last time of seeing Jake cuffed and surrounded by government soldiers in the throne room (they showed up after Zach and I returned), I haven't heard from him.

Thorn ran into me once about two months ago. By ran into me, I mean purposely found me but pretended that it was an accident. She's not supposed to see any of us either. I think she feels bad.

I started to blow her off, but then she told me that she'd been dismissed. Other than a very clear command never to seek Zach or me out, Thorn'll never get another order from S.H.I.E.L.D. again. She didn't tell me what she was up to now. I didn't ask.

Speaking of Zach…

He has had a terrible time shifting into "family life" gear. He still up and disappears on us. Not literally anymore, but he leaves without warning quite frequently. It really worries Mom sometimes.

But he always comes back. And I think that shows more than they realize.

The rest of my family has taken to him pretty well, considering the circumstances. My little brother Ben has even started including Zach in some of his pranks, both cooperatively and…uncooperatively. They get along pretty well.

Knowing you, Claire, you must be dying to know if Zach and I are dating. To be honest, I'm not really sure. At least, I wouldn't consider him my boyfriend. We're both too scarred to just jump into a romantic relationship. Right now we're just trying to heal. Together.

How are you and Luke doing? Still a couple? He should be getting the medical treatment he needs now. That was the one thing I demanded from S.H.I.E.L.D. in exchange for keeping my mouth shut and going along with their plans for my "transition."

Here comes the hardest part of this letter.

I have to tell you that I am breaking some serious rules by writing to you at all. Part of the agreement that's helping Luke requires that I never again make contact with someone I met during my time with Odrade.

You would be one of those people.

Consequently, you can't answer any of my questions and I can't answer yours. And you'll never see me again, although I might check on _you_. Who knows? I could be watching you read this.

Betcha anything that you just glanced at the window. My last little joke.

There's not much else to say now except goodbye.

So.

Goodbye, Claire.

Good luck and all that.

Love,

Fantasma

P.S.

Burn this.


End file.
